...labor at the cost.

Coagulated motion, stuffed into a box

Appeal to stagnation breeds strong

The fluff in my head is toxic

Turbulent times paralyze these knuckles

I sway, head down, looking for something

To rid this night of insignificance.

The numbers rise and fall

Magnetized to the motion of opportunity cost.

Do I stay and eek forward, intent lost?

Or walk elsewhere to cash in on the impulse of nothing?

Weary roams the lonely

Defeated by this day’s actions.

Studious to obligatory needs, yet

Appalled in the aftermath of fucking off rest.

This day was meant for luxury among the weak

However seldom the time alone may be…

This day was built for wellness

But the strength of my hierarchy of needs

Has fucked the kinder side off.

How am I this way? I labor at the cost.

Generous

“...I can't help thinking… that I was in a daze, I was losing my place…”

“...everything that's perfect- falls away.”

Grey earth, take me down easy

Rough score, perfect mate

Edges match, my hands mold

The unity in this tangible agreement:

Far greater than any

Dialogue of words.

Far greater than anything seen

Is anything- sown.

Seeds extracted

Planted in theory, chaos, and care

Philosophic slab

Became cream in hand

Flow, strong and significant

The bent elbow is generous

Meticulous in its giving

Outsourcing nothing, to get the job done.

Fertile against fallow

A time for everything

A time to understand

Comprehension is a gift.

What surrounds me...

Drawn upon surroundings
Exterior life is good.
Clay, when I want it
Ink, when I need it
Oil, when I'm daring
Acrylic, for quickie's.
And leaves, for days.....
With lines, if I feel linear
And blank, when I'm wistful.

It isn't talent, it's time.
Time to balance who I am.

Time.

Time to use- wisely.

Time to use, efficiently.

Time to do nothing in the 'sometimes'

Bound to life, through living.
Woven into energy, transfixed to action
Action to amble without waste,
As resources make ready for intention.

Give in grace
Grown in love
Taught in understanding

Life and time
Productive

The now, exalted.

...gust

Clear. Yet the transparency is anything but

Moot, yet to dwell is what we do

Dubious, deliquescence… thinking cap

Tightening.

The low-lit surroundings perform well

The masculine components mingle around

When will a deeper voice plant his ass next to mine,

And dig into dialogue, befitting the night?

“...you gave me nothing, now it’s all I got…”

“..you asked me to enter, and then you made me crawl.”

https://youtu.be/a0CsAfqNvmw

“Love is a temple, Love, the higher law…”

“Carry each other, carry each other…”

Dreaming of expensive tastes

Reaching for my preference

Dropped- inedible.

Dark-red points, needling through fresh linen

Seeking elongated lines, to rustle the 2am gust

Into warm action.

“I can’t take my eyes off of you…”

“Just can’t take my eyes off of you…”

And so it is, the lonely water

The blower’s falter

The victory in denial.

Half of the time.

“...the colder water.”

I am swimming where I stand

Recognized by the safety of self

No bellicose potential hovering…

“This has got to lie down, with someone else on top…”

Fuck.

I am kept peeled,

Teased at the gate of my own garden.

Laboring in the ache of destructive needs,

Every fucking 28 days.

That journey, that egg.

That immoral, insufferable ‘beg’.

He shouts the adjective, long and loud.

“Crutch” remiss, in the crotch

“...fall upon your knees”

Breeze, rumored to have passed this way

Into the nose and out the nothing

Kept UN-quelled by the nature of starvation

And her ability to recognize ‘heat’.

My oh my, Tuesday won’t lie down.

10:18 pm

Dry hands drink.

Goodnight.

The High of Yesterday

Tuesday.

Cast iron beliefs

Used, useless

No use in congregating

Voice of one- confer

Disappointed in

...the disgust of others.

I am not in the business

Of the business of YOU.

Hypocrites stand so close by

I want the reverb of my

-dismissal-

To boldly bang them away

And out- out- OUT

Of my life.

I am cold.

Coming down from the exhaustive high

...of yesterday.

Ovulation these days

Has become relentless

One minute motion pictures are

...becoming addictive.

What am I doing here-

Confessing to this new brand of skin?

The perversion of Monday

Has owned me.

#Tuesday

Mended

Highway at night.

Empty but for the wind

Silent but for the tapping of

Indecisive heels on concrete

Lens, to follow the drift

Of the ways in which impulse form.

He decided we would

Many years ago.

That eternal partner

That I yet clutch

He’s burned me out

But faith will have no part of that belief.

I’m there, in the drab fog

Sucking up the appeal

Of what might be found

On that quiet plane of unmatched speed.

That dream we arranged

Together, in our twenties

Of alley’s and piss

And the unexpected kiss

Of alcohol’s precision

Our laughter, our friendship

Our clamoring requests

That seventh grade broken heart

Mended.