The pedigree in modes of transparencies
Teleport into icy turquoise domes,
Sounding alarms of yesterdays prones
Towards grimaces at helmets removed,
Revealing a slew of ghoulish facades;
Pacifists derived from hidden sinews.


Without Her

Uniform directional velvet strokes
Of distracting idealistic sheen.
Velveteen faux pas fabrications
Eclectically tucked underneath
The gleaning unctioned pall
Of previously held beliefs,
Of Love’s imagined appearance,
Of Love’s supposed transfiguration,
Of doubtless felt patches,
Of thoughtless assurances,
Of windowless panes,
But really,
I know
I’d be okay

Without reminders
I forget everything
Or so it seems.