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Flesh on Bones
Gordon paving, cachet down the road in search of eyes, these the eyes will that scratch, pulling already so wet is one thinness of cornea from left to right and left to right - alas! honey my darling heart, 'tis on a burgundy taste so the lingual shiver found mine, mine, and mine only the stars cracking on face.
No, not yet to say so. No, not yet to tell you. Thine the arms all plastic on my broken legs, all in one, two, three, five now the dreary drip over the white of the floor, how wet my bones also now - Was I, was I, was I crying the moon on the glass.
Song after song the names in hold of fingertips, stay, stay, stay the azure of the night so the turquoise I find; hers the days will be, press of this my index number on one complete flatness that sojourns here only the green mess from copse thick at the distance - what blue disturbance in me on the green shiver yonder; yet, but, about, all words to let loose, if only thy name off the edge of red mush of mine the human matter wetting the space of this room now.
Did I have you? Do I have you?
Come away then. Weigh me down heavier than the creamy closure of this my lids' kiss nightly - some sadness some lament awaits. Warm and warmer my hands now, do I think of the hour matutinal in this the lapse of when tansmutes the vermillion shade of the rorqual skin - on every doorstep not the hue found, but this the color blue, this the blue color.
White flesh over the iron mass, the hands and limbs keeping the elbows atop the plastic for how my hands almost fall on the floor before do the knees, afore am I on my knees, afore can the hands touch the ground for am I on my knees now.
Harbinger of our doom,
Hurtling through space,
The asteroid is here too soon.
Hello these the nights pulling at the nakedness of the city into seascape of mine the hard sobriety, in my eyes oh how I keep still, how I keep still on my hands also, but the squelch, squelch, slip of the feet under the bed now and then.
Mine not anymore, yours not anymore. Someone else's a realm of hard flesh, weak not hers the composition - all power to the melancholy.
Going away, moving away slowly and slowly...
No, not yet to say so. No, not yet to tell you. Thine the arms all plastic on my broken legs, all in one, two, three, five now the dreary drip over the white of the floor, how wet my bones also now - Was I, was I, was I crying the moon on the glass.
Song after song the names in hold of fingertips, stay, stay, stay the azure of the night so the turquoise I find; hers the days will be, press of this my index number on one complete flatness that sojourns here only the green mess from copse thick at the distance - what blue disturbance in me on the green shiver yonder; yet, but, about, all words to let loose, if only thy name off the edge of red mush of mine the human matter wetting the space of this room now.
Did I have you? Do I have you?
Come away then. Weigh me down heavier than the creamy closure of this my lids' kiss nightly - some sadness some lament awaits. Warm and warmer my hands now, do I think of the hour matutinal in this the lapse of when tansmutes the vermillion shade of the rorqual skin - on every doorstep not the hue found, but this the color blue, this the blue color.
White flesh over the iron mass, the hands and limbs keeping the elbows atop the plastic for how my hands almost fall on the floor before do the knees, afore am I on my knees, afore can the hands touch the ground for am I on my knees now.
Harbinger of our doom,
Hurtling through space,
The asteroid is here too soon.
Hello these the nights pulling at the nakedness of the city into seascape of mine the hard sobriety, in my eyes oh how I keep still, how I keep still on my hands also, but the squelch, squelch, slip of the feet under the bed now and then.
Mine not anymore, yours not anymore. Someone else's a realm of hard flesh, weak not hers the composition - all power to the melancholy.
Going away, moving away slowly and slowly...
