You've lost force.
You've lost feeling.
It is left only
to the heart
through its
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1 min
You've lost force.
You've lost feeling.
It is left only
to the heart
through its
...
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"And yet what purple hours one can snatch from that grey,
slowly-moving thing we call Time!" –
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I walk around the voided saloon
peeping the puppet museum for life
in vain: there's nothing
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I wonder if black children
are tender headed because of ghost follicles
rooted long long
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Holi of hypocrites
I use tears of abandoned....
Blue is mah color...
I play Holi
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Never mind the flying daggers, the billow of crows
tugging the glazed horizon. Songs of witches
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do you still think of me
the way I think of you?
a lost friend, a fallen fate,
a far-off
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It is a sweet night, with good sleep,
That I have been a year
Not hopping in the dream, but
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there's this girl who visits me
i call her Gwen.
i don't know where she came from
but there
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when the morning still
brought mist and sweatshirts
hot coffee in mugs
of every shape and
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Blood, bile, my shin chimes,
Bone ghost-clangs under grapefruit
Bump. Once, I was blind.
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I love it when I see your eyes basking,
Not in the morrow of the sun's omniscient light,
But
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"My love is dead."
Her eyes were red
As she told her tale of woe.
"He disappeared
And
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He is warm weather in February,
The sun enveloping me in a hug,
Ten thousand heavy, buzzing
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They walked along the trail
in their own rhythm
even the flies landed on their faces
I
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