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forecast. where there are no such brewings as farewells, i become worthy; and newly tied bindings are undeniably dear. charms and colors contracting, nervously nearing yet tormented in crown worn with the inertia of staring eyes collecting. oh rosing cacophony, galloping under so many lids intoxicated inexplicable cataclysm! why these roses wail such raging crimson less than this brilliant mazarine ceiling? all the while im just gushing to abscond. festival. She says: “your luring stare” I say: “my wandering vertiginous eyes” She moves: “your soft immaculate hands unfold upon mine” I shaky heart skips: “my superfluous deliria spilling over” She fathoms: “Oh miraculous frustration, even the delicate breeze agitates my spinelessness” I desperation: “Oh hapless courage where are you?” She declares: “there is a bubbling vehemence between us and even the curve of every bend in your soft lips plead.” ----- alas, my glassy eyed faith, do not hide your face from that hideous frown of inescapable clock fate. to let you know, i only cradle this separable thickness with a more pulsing fondness. this is the tragic ecstasy of departure, and the exhilarating ease of breath knowing that these stars really aren’t above anything at all. but does not all which rises tremble? how am i to celebrate you under the elaborate incompleteness of language, there is no truth behind the configurations of ink. alas, dear angel, we can not pluck the strings of becoming until august exhales. ------ for the inexperience of early rain; nervous toes becoming tendrils, trembling hands turning nervously, all courage becomes an embarrassing stain in the static between a virgin kiss. so does the air not seem friction less, dear heart? curiosity casts an impartial shadow, a secret kiss suffers ample marvels.
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