Plebs would continuously keep dropping
Love bombs, drawn with fiber optic crayons
That would sound, smell, taste, look and feel
Different depending on
The person’s auric light,
Their kin, filled with more of the kind of fright
That is felt when everything that you thought
That was beautiful and good and real, just
Suddenly wasn’t.

“Do you know what it’s like?”, the storytellers question,
But their lovers, cold, still, and silent, elicit
Hollow responses, even after having been quaintly
Given a taste, knowing, on the superficial plane.


In Our

Indecision, plotted improbabilities of Cartesian geometrics;
Issuable in galactic tides, misnomers collide inside granite walls.

Colloquies peck at ice sheets on barking, spuriously layered thickly.
Olfactories whiff dissipated scents, reminiscent of dewy must;
Oak – a working vocation of adventurous avocations,
Knitted scarves wrapped under melancholic chins;

Distastefully used ruses flushes our cheeks;
Remainders, who failed to utilize schematics:


The distasteful sustain
Falsified numerologies
That endlessly flirt.

With pestles and mortar,
Favored remedies are
Replaced by odious
Repugnances of tenuously
Replicated tries; unmenacingly
Crushing shriveled up petalages
Garnered by unadorned windowsills,
With withered strips of dates
Within beveled borders along
Fluted reliefs; wonders of
Precisions inside forgotten memories.

Distorted ambiguities of misdirected

It Clicks


Can you explain
The scales that consecutively run
To those that cannot sense it.

Our vision that pales;
His, hers, and mine,
In the faces of sophists.

Then dewy inklings
Of feathered proofs lapse
By subsequent engineering
In uncounted droplets
On tympanic shields
From deciphers felt.

Breathless moments buried;
Dissonant reverberations
Things I
Use to

Inside of Interactions

I didn’t get to see
Her interact with others,
With me.
I didn’t get to read those things,
Those small things,
You read
Inside of interactions.
I wanted to hear her voice,
I wanted to hear they way she’d form her words,
I wanted to hear each note,
Each dip, every drop
In pitch, for every emotion.
I wanted to read her faces,
To witness every twitch,
Every burst of expression,
Each smile, frown,
Furrowed brow, pursed lips,
Every open and close,
The slightest subtle changes
When I touched her,
To trace the curves
Of her shoulders, her neck,
Her bones, her flesh,
Her tits, her ass,
Her thighs
Around my waist
Her arms, her legs,
Her head buried in mine,
Her weight, her presence,
Her warmth, her skin,
Her forms of moisture
From perspiration, to saliva,
To her vagina,
To taste her flavors,
To breathe in her essence,
Of her breath,
Of her body,
Her head.