Ruminating over time crystals
& broken sinks
I keep the French you speak
in a little pillowed bow tied box
in my head
Along with everything else|
safeguarded better than jewelry
because there’s no possession
I can barely sleep
these nights are brimming
with tears &
I know I’m dying
a slow death [all the time]
but the engine just revved
& I hear the scream of the siren
or is it a private jet
either way it’s the most expensive
because once you’re on board
there’s only one way forward
here & gone
When nature becomes creative, it douses itself in paint with your name even if no one knows it yet.
They might wear it in a store or dye their nails to garner attention but the attention is misplaced. All order is abandoned and it’s all on purpose, systematic like gun control. ‘All systems go’ is your rigamarole, the damage is mostly electrical. Mostly steel but the shimmer is beautiful. A little bit like Deadpool. Trademarked and copyrighted. A pistol’s gamble in a knife fight. Dangling in the sky from a thread too thin to think.
Your eyes are my favorite thing to see. I’ve arrived in a candy store and I can’t pay for a thing. Everything tastes like you; where you are is my destiny, and in the words of my favorite character, destiny is all.
my witch doctor has a John Wick vibe
& it’s fucking me up/but
he’s busy crafting me brush
the process feels good though
[m a s o c h i s t I c
I’m thinking he knows me
thoroughly without| I think
I’m a test on a string
cast pale in sharp. detail
I think it’s already worked
I’ve known now I don’t have to
authors edit: ideas brought to quick fruition beget typos galore
I can barely describe the feeling when your voice lowers just a smidgen, strong smoky and smooth and all of the wind evacuates my lungs and catches my ribs like idle hands. You are my Wow! signal. When the smirk pulls your lips all of my fear disperses and your pupils just happen to become black holes I mesh into. I think this is where we go when we die. Maybe it’s just me. I tap out repeatedly but I’m not surrendering. Well, eh, perhaps. I think it’s already fact, I think it was a quick descent. Fucking crash landing.
I used to think tsunamis were walls of water until I saw one that’s astral & human, taking us all for a revolutionary rollercoaster ride seaside. If anyone took a photo they’d say ‘and this was before…’ like they were scarred when you blindsided by like a wily meteorite, but they only remodeled & replaced all of the broken shards of their lives because of you.
Intense is merely short-notice satisfaction with a twist. You’re sinking when it hits.
I’m still reaching.
Death and fate once made a fatal marriage
I think the moon is leering over me
I’m aware there’s power here
& I keep it on a tight
I have to:
because when you read the room
you run my fucking world
I recognize power now
as my most compelling demon
how/when you met
when it’s silent
The gunslinger’s glory is yours
YOU’VE WON IT ALL
the lottery everything
Come now, can I be that obvious?.
Despite the bullshit
I intend to prove this
While you were exploring unbridled seas I was immersed in Heat Waves, rolling over the consequences of breaching your surface. You caught the top of my glossy head just as I slipped back below. Maybe you glanced the skull I pulled in tow.
Turns out we all can’t breathe underwater. I’ve saved a few from the same fate. No one particularly needed to spare me mine. Though nothing at all escapes your spyglass… and because of you, I’ve now got a soft spot for cephalopods & the way they
I tried the same but you saw me. I’ll never forget the moment you caught me. I could sweep my fins in a second but they were limp; it’s a good thing I never did. We usually sing sirens songs to lull men in… but|
I always knew you had buried treasure in your skin.
I hate how punchlines
are time limited
& how these liminal spaces
ex |》 tend.
I’m alone but I don’t feel it
a recently reacquainted always – new friend
the portent of being closed inside
all over again &
my survival depends
on careful steps
I don’t know where the words went, where they began or where they
end. I know you whisk them into candy threads and my brain is struggling to vocalize those impish scenarios for the ink on your hand. Secrets slip so quickly out of my fingers lately, it’s a wonder they stay locked behind my teeth. You’re beautiful when you sleep.
In the meantime I am scraping by consistent & constantly relying on scratching this undying itch… ripping my skin to little wilted pieces. It’s stress. I’m a magnet for it but you’re the first and only thing in life where I’ve never had a single regret. Call it fate or divine, call it whatever you want as long as worlds combine. Pure manifestation, you’re the end of the assembly line like 3D printing, knocking them all back because I’m always drinking. You’d think I have an affair with black cherry instead of vous de droit, turned my heart into a bloom of passionfruit. Eight percent alcohol by volume. The color I spit in the shower is damn near the shade of one more new bruise.
Maybe my meantime is designed to be pleasurable painful. The real definition of fetishist. A real brutally honest assessment for the hell of it.