Next Train . .
I am adapting
Cowardly, but adapting
This is distinction
Between surviving
And existence

I am adapting
Cowardly, but adapting
This is distinction
Between surviving
And existence
My mercy
A need to substitute
My mouth, for a dream
Different homes
Pincushions for doorknobs
Damnit I love you
One must be blind
Stripping God of its own light
Things none of us could be
The profound luster in lines
It’s happening to me
A wound, too echo’d to reveal
That love is not found in days
A writer sometimes retains only those poems that find no place. A strange ineffable experience of the mind, its enormous success of self love.
I rush I run
Almost fierce
Cannot be
Until Am is Am
My very veins
In its desire to be
Tigers brilliantly move
Bright limbs of mortals
Overpowered and mute
Utmost – love
No more still
Than your tongue’d speech
Fight for insight
God’s copyright
In this interior of light
My signature becomes
A wrath that requires no reason
Forgot
How still
Your mind is
This is not
A compliment
It’s rhetoric,
It chokes
The good parts of me
Hang over my feet
Like lousy flowers
That love just like me
Thought
Much less
of me
Flask-less-ly
You waited
Like spirits
Hanging over
Veils of what I’ve done wrong
Covers us in blue
In the instant
Of this instant
Memory invents
Another present
A circular courtyard
With superstitious
Flashes of light
Intended to cover
Every crack in our horizon
The eternities of a second
My whole life to solve
Pitiless searches for a body
To grow old with
Nameless sensations
Such a cruel thing
To miss the dead
With this immeasurable clarity
Like gravid drops of hope
Spinning over itself
Tirelessly, till we learn
How to love, again . .
The furthest of reaches
Sex seal serpentines
These syllogisms
Transform me
Inside is outside
It is everywhere
And nowhere
Invented
Devoured
– Man
We live in identical rooms
We blankly wake, we greet
From one balcony to another
Successively for a hundred years
Between now and tomorrow
We will spend the rest of our days
Growing gardens out of angry stars
Like birds
With a grape to blame . .
Immune to mine
Interiors of gray matter
Granular minerals
Sleepy-colors
Obsolete to some
– Love
Love clamps itself
Leaving small gaps
With just enough spaces
Allowing you to taste
Your very own tongue
Communicate
A little more
Than twice
Like syllables
Gain enormousness
Looking for us
In the middle
Of the night
There’s no such thing
As neatness
When it comes
To our minds
I breath
You flicker
Incalculable
Of course . .
Tried to draw the sound of you
All I found was a flying crate
Collide like us
Like they
Like me
And we
Solid line
Straight shooter
Surrounded by time
Jan 11, 2020
Scattered me
I long to be something
Stronger
Than a woman
Who once loved you
the world spins
ready to loose, and peal
comparable to a star
proudly moving through water
there is no equal, more beautiful
than her roseness at my feet
i admit here, i seek shelter
a shelter of brightness
when most of my most, is dark
cross high and unstrange
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