low Frost

we woke up too early will it be too late i know you know more than i know so how do you not see me coming? intentions, growing water flows there’s no intent to kill seas will drown us just the same o baby, rising tides bring closer retention of former, repent for latter summertime positions feel poisoned in this dawning air beg, or begot, begin. Insipid fair weather targets find us lacking once again. o baby, darkest winter coming wood pile bereft, this fire has burned far too long archaic pain cuneiforms testify how stories die another stone tablet … Continue reading low Frost

Congenial Continuity

conceit informs conciliatory bath salts coating gingerbread playhouse all those things vital ruminate upon plastic jawbones collect your teeth, esoteric subliminal cosign, be at ease your blood spotting in sink in sync to tinny parables stars are prized, size up one-hundred million year old light vestigial, paranormal incompetence we participate in essence on backs of olden prophet, finding purity rage coagulates prominence constant reforms, Constance tactile resonance, prescient encumbered by insolence, feed me fertility in detritus, all you see everything free, for a price. Ever-long eventide, high tides enter the fray uncertain yesterday after tomorrow stay until sunset, I raised … Continue reading Congenial Continuity

Missile Silo Silence

air in here, stale a pale fear, clearly of past expression uncertainty my last remaining companion. a fervent calculus upon canvas by proxy, this attention consummates our callous trappings we earn what we learn in scars, a Celtic matrimony to deadly nature exhibition three-fold terror of lesser beginnings have we all become our want insular affirmations contain our containment we, walking in dread burlesque pageantry sup upon marrow, corrosion clenching red flags in armored fist torn by southerly winds I still crave your notice when on all fours hungered by self-hatred unfulfilled aghast and broken by retreat missile silo silence, … Continue reading Missile Silo Silence

mahogany

irreverent telepathy soak my sins in mahogany let us invite the morning turpitude waning, decorous choral indignation suffering, a final note hung in hall of disregard phylogeny of manic regret we can fall no further than now place your pawn be wise, condemn us for you will know our fingers are for aching harmful sensations, this kiss unwanted. but i bleed you with ragged breath swallowing holy water imploring death to come and love me, misogyny.   image courtesy of Pinterest   Continue reading mahogany