Tip-Toe the Terminator
Shelled my amnesia.
Quenched my dirty
thoughts in mercury.
Standing sickness,
adapting with
healthy fluidity.
There's a void,
staring through
blind eyes,
who's surname
is grace.
She knows I'm there
despite my
unfamiliar presence.
No one knows
but, her reflection
is her nemesis.
Our devil as a reed in waiting.
Our sin as an invention
to preserve our soles.
Our God as the air relaxing
with removal.
Our Savior as the water forgetting the past.
Walking along the lines
of slippery rocks
as they endlessly
try to tell us the story.
FIRST MAN AND HOTWIFE
It all began.
Forbidden.
Deceit,
came first,
Withholding,
broken ground.
Denouncing saving.
If,
all tailspins into nothing,
All rises again
as
conversation.
Convincingly answering
the unquestionably
first
fruits.
Hell,
refusing to dry.
What will,
the body,
makes deeper.
Who could stand
correctly?
Unbothered,
by the new roots.
Who could speak
in the tongues?
Mothering
atonement
with its abandonment.
No one,
absolutely no one,
saw the creation
of the new moon
coming.
Leaving
...
no response.
Only
the departure
felt right.
(BIG BANG BABY)
At this moment.
You rebuild our reunifying creation.
Door by Door.
A burning bridge.
Hiding nothing from day nor night.
We forego the games of old and new...
Speaking of the love that raised the walls to house the Gods in heaven.
Remember my face
within this gift of cologne.
To jungle all desire in the clearing
of throats...
How many kisses will it take
to cancel those depths?
Those beings smothered as deeply as bruises discarded
and buried in
echoes of seclusion,
which,
indeed,
we've lost all our count for?
Rise up to the sound of your name.
Stand tall for the voice that will always complete you.
Arm the motion that drives the wild from frozen quarters with limbs intoxicated.
With a loving, both maddening and sobering, with it's refusal to shy from all truth.
I would die to love you for one moment.
I would vanish in priority of your wellness,
in debted to your living in the eternal fallout of real love being never lost.
Hear me.
Come to me.
My voice directs you
to the treasury of all my compassion,
to the fountainheads of all my kisses.
Holdsfast to my body and to our life.
Make moves,
making love to inspire tomorrow,
to rise and attain the horizon.
CRESCENT UNTIL MORNING: THE DAYBREAKING IN OF YOUR IRIS
Jesus,
I will never dispute
the power held by your name.
Yet,
we must remove what
we’ve caught in all those
years of fishing for answers,
please.
Please,
so I can move freely,
for us.
You’ve done a number on my lungs.
It’s essential that we
see the gravity in this mountain
of vitality.
So,
read my lips,
hold these words dear,
my love,
weave into the light branching out
in and of our embracing.
Retire this vexation,
climb
down,
and
release your vision.
Liberate us from these chains,
these outlines of stone.
Revolve into flight,
captive no longer.
PLEASE.
(DANCE)<UNTIL>(A)<BROIL>
Watch your step.
Abbreviation carries forward
an arrogant wickedness. ...
...
-not a name-
- - - - - - - - -
-not without subtlety-
Alright.
Kinship requires sarcasm
if one’s humor proves
unsharpened as of yet.
Breathe. ...
...
I’m hopeful to express
the remedial compromises.
Leave your plate
by the seat saved
for insecurities.
Esteem will find the lantern.
So, what if
supper is finished,
oh,
well,
cooked,
while our house is
being burned down? ...
...
... clumsiness
is all the rage,
deep roots’ limbo ...
...
In effect,
convience will be heard
speaking with the purest voice,
”Savory.”
Echoes will contemplate
until oblivion,
!?Silence!?
WISHING THROUGH THE UNCERTAIN AGAINST CONJOINED STRAYING... (UM... FOR EVERYONE TO FEEL AT HOME HERE...)
I see her presenting the Sun
engulfed 'round her profile
averting mine indirectly...
...
It must not be discussed by the tyrannical
drunkards under my nose...
...
Those soft speaking collective effulgences
clearing the throat of polarity...
...
Her pretend boyfriend is really beautiful...
...Grace suits a man...
Or is there a pregnancy overdue???
???
Something gallops across
all proximity...
Is the only presence allowed
trimming the pryed
game face
of pure
make believe?
No one is ever at home to answer.
Mine as well
come in.
Find yourself at home.
Have a seat at the table.
Eat.
THE DEVIL IN MY WINGS
This discipline finds it's end.
Every ear must have heard by now:
d
o
w
n
the drain...
Drowned within the vehicle,
like a door unable to escape
the necessity of a wall.
If only we could have talked it out.
What law sees this seperation?
I never saw the evil in us?
If the devil in you found it right to love,
then doesn't love return?
I know love isn't a choice...
...
If I feel that unconditional purpose
overtaking me...
I vow to serve.
SIGNS IN A HIGH GLOSS
"I wish things were different,"
the truth you spoke accompanying tears.
...
Our paths' collision turned out to be an impact
beyond the hope of masking emotions
and being in over our head at such depth
saw a reliving, somehow, of all the parts once considered to be dead.
...
I'm finally seeing you as you were, as you are,
and I'm sorry...
...I never showed up to love you...
My heartbeat as your body cried
...
yet,
loneliness
stretched the air between us,
making our lungs work for breathe.
Despite our shared feelings, a hopeful optimism,
silhouttes of soulmates,
our separation grew,
grew legs and sprinted for cover...
...
My heartbeat as your body cried
and we went out howling at the moon
drunk on those tears...
...
Our eyes blinded by our desire
to see love reflected in the fullest phase.
...
We could only feel the heat
while pressed against the brick...
...
Those walls had always been prepared
for fall...
...I'm finally learning to see...
...
...
Your the vision for me or I'd rather stay in the dark...
...
Are you still searching the twighlight for a familiar outline,
as I am?
Say.
My world belongs to you.
Take it, please.
I'd do anything for one more chance
to read the invitation upon your lips.
Guarding(Gardening) The Coast_ _Leading(Reaping) To Your Liberation
Each day rises,
streaming against two lips,
yesterday and tomorrow,
spoken vows,
confessing promises,
keeping my love for you;
forever in memory,
eternally sacred,
alive atop my chest.
Wasn't my love for you at once overwhelming?
I kissed you with all that I am,
only to have you die in my arms,
but,
wasn't this overabundance a prequel to rapture?
We have carried this mission thus far.
Awakening with the weight of your dreams,
not just dreams of you,
dreams that are yours.
I have found that this heaviness is mostly gratitude,
gratitude that circulates through me.
Keeping my feet grounded,
as i travel your body,
the both of us
aware of our entanglement,
twisting or drifting,
drowning within this love oceanic,
each in debt to save the other.
LIFE IS LIKE ...
Life is like perpetual magical incest.
For all is related...
For all is sexual...
For the pinnacle is union...
For we escape together...
...through the bottom to the top...
Life is like a Disney Movie...
...written by your cousin from Alabama...
...a movie ... that sucks ... in which you star...
...in the nude...
...while the world goes out of it's way...
...to have your number...