Beauty’s Reminders

Dominions decided upon
Despite palpable disinterests
For loveless connections;
The behest of estranged happenstances
With corroborated reminders
From nuanced ninons–
That he was
Beauty.


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Love

God could keep his purpose.
He could take every
Expounding great nothing,
Every exonerating. restraining,
Distortion in beauty’s anamorphosis,
Evolutionary or mutation,
He could take these things
And shove it up his omniscient ass.

Oh yes,
It’s purpose.
But this purpose
Can go fuck itself.

Her Progeny

I’m determined to see this task to its end.
But there are instances
When the vortices of recollections
Pull the motions of production to halt.
This determination causes the aggrieved
To relive traumatic loss,
A subsequent outcome of cathartic release
Reflecting abreactive methodology.
The familiar crippling pain
Comes creeping back into me
As I am reminded by her progeny.
Is it worth understanding
Or is the pain something better left forgotten.

Breathe.

Straighten your back.

Breathe in slowly
Fill up your lungs.

Hold it in space
Feel it encased.

Steady exhale
Into the air.

Listen intently
To the pulsating rhythm.

Follow the beat.

Return your attention
Back to the music.
Revert your tempo
Back to prime
Measures perfect
Time; Restart.

Breathe.

Do it once more.

It will be okay
Pain will subside.

Dreams’ll be forgotten.

Breathe.