winter world calling

should i


winter world




like a child


in the dark



forsake the swallowing sun

light can be made broken

should i






the silent


should i


the sky

and the honeycomb air shimmers

accepting all voices



for thou are not eternal,

promise nothing

for flesh is never immortal,


is neither guardian

nor keepsake to memory,

should you, veiled

slip the shadow way


shall be your name,



childhood off to

the gallows and

crow gnawed dark,

nooses are proteins

lashing the roads

for future peril,

swing freely once the

last playground dies

but leashes are only

truly beginning, sexes

are a dash of acorns

and their interrupted

contents for the media

to tear at or render,

none control the

cell’s furnace panic

i imagined

but never truly

happened, what

buries the sigh

so? to complete

itself with an

unfurling tether,

a competent breath?

often i would

think, “what would

that summer be?”

intense? is it like

stars drunk? or

fireflies in terrific

stunts inside the

heart’s continual plummet?

or trying all gleams

at once? a tiny

constellation expanding

pushing outwards from

that silver sung cranium,

that blush of silvery

anticipation, a tremble

expectant, into

this world is sullen

enough yet those

infected with love

are raptures-blurring-

faster no bullet

could overtake,

there are silver cheetahs

racing as blood

i dreamt but

could never fit

the spire together,

i see their edible

silver, and hailstones

coming on command,

a copy of one another’s

attention, duet and stride

the wet shores are

sheets, aftermaths of

opals and sludge

moon varnished, a linen

confession of-allover-

animated fingers,

wreckages of, docile

with outright blisses

i was never

met this way

or approached

by obvious or by

stealth, have i

become my own

superstition my

own pretend ruin?

those eyes with, are

combustible everywheres,

compliant desired edges

where lust is caramel upon,

a slobber of bodies more

salt nowadays than

an infused tide, that love

is pathological

and loneliness is

accompanied with that

confusion silver melting

where only the lonely

abandon their gazes,

sliding in almost

touches but never

touching anyone


in love? fuck!!!

air grows besotted

menaces reason,

reconsider? there

are other preferable


once cupid’s thirst’s

been administered,

it’s doting, teetering,

lush sanity weakens,

blood blushed with

stars, flammable

inconsistencies of fever

it plagiarises


thinks imbalanced

hollows out and

down, into uncharted


drowned so,

smothered so a

copy of someone

else, devours the

mind’s highway,

exerts it’s iridescent


it sure is blindness

follow wrist first onto

all fours of submission

upon tightrope thinly

swaying, this valentine

sickens into a sweetly

meddled corpse

attrition of, knows no

cease and has gruelling

thumbs that insist on

brandishing ownership,

prints so sincerely

inflicted, mortgages

the soul

other tongues will

be prohibited, it’s

disease will acquire

a permanent bed

where the linen is

always rain damp

and lustful dirty red

stupid as an adolescent,

the minute you spread

your fingers like messiah-

wing-spans, tourniquets

round, my world fumbles

into you, phagocytised even


-into, like honey addicted

hummingbirds methadone

restricted but deafening in

want, sticky lit and bright

enticement to be stuck onto

possesses to the core

this espionage and it’s dark,

offsets cranial commandments

infiltrates the neural constellation

makes obsession fit, the lie is

forged and is nourished by

the cot that will never rotten

i hate myself for it’s invasion,

you are not my halo, i’m usually

so hole assured i rinse in past’s

affection and it’s usual thrive of

loneliness, i’m used to lonely

sheets no other has christened

stunt of the heart

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