Thursday, April 9, 2015

Smoke and Mirrors

A lean attempt
To lower resistance
Resilience, sought
-with a fine toothed comb.
This consistency, day after day,
Impaled upon inactivity,
Morose guilt.
Who am I in this bereft greyness?

Feathers dance
I recognize their joy
The wind's consistency-
Arbitrary loss
Performs nightly
Among the ballad of the starved.
The blame, tacked heavy to my breast
Effusive drivel

Who am I
Slowing for corners
Plowing thickly
Through basalt
Shame reflects
Bouncing off triggered intent
To woo and then choke
Any would-be brethren

Bent on victory
A fissure, a cleft, a minuscule deft
One inkling of 'open'
To pry and dig
Arpeggio's amplify
The movement of Love-
To ricochet and regale
This microcosm of beauty.

How is it I came
To argue so boldly
With my own softness?
To punch and drag- kicking
That vulnerable cause
To love and be loved
In an ode to the Sky;
The Sea; to blissful degree?
Barren, my vault
To explain these offenses

Speeding up,
Roaring defenses are cut
Nipped in buds
Plagued no more
By the stunted aroma
Of perfume turned bad
From the rot of regret.
I can only make amends
To the pitch that wailed away
Irretrievable moons.

The dialogue is oozing
And I am less a proctor to safety
Now that evidence presents itself.
Jurisprudence -encore
For the second day running
Slivers spray outward
Spines twist
Bromide weakens.
Thank fuck.

I'm coming
Into a difference
In a manner of speaking
Innuendos, beware.
Igloo, melting
Ignition, sparked
Igneous rule
Idle chatter.

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