Inadequacies seem impolite, afield and
lost, bleeding several concerns.
The carnival is bellicose, steep
detachment, the forests are ruined.
Versace dreams, Sephora coloring
books, sky lutes.
The sub-fire voice, a banshee’s
shiver, siphoned by science.
The rarest shark, a great white,
envy of the seas.
The countenance made elusive, one
major mystery, the vow is to decode it.
Haunted heritage. Fumbling ink.
Cloud veins.
Ocean lantern, barely a light, the
seas have stairs.
Morbid winds. Psychedelic sunshine.
Gloomy neurons.
In a frenzy, to catch a falling baby,
electric inside.
Vapor displays itself. Jellyfish
seem inconsequential. The deception is visual.
Underwater fireflies. Feminine
eggs. Dispersed by the currents. Alive a short time to reproduce.
The cycle—something to harvest—made
nocturnal bioluminescence.
The teal dirt, winds on high, the
moon is midnight blue light.
Sea phantasms. Elemental phantoms.
Chairs atop whales.
Iconic creatures and peoples and
dreams.
We learn to live; we walk gently into
that dark night.
Clutching old trauma, burgundy
skies, the soul is luminous.
Deeper spirit. Spiritual winning.
So fragile, gentle, bathing in soul fury.
Birds go for skies, third inside,
the elephant is 6 tons.
At the end of the fiasco, looking
to relive, the tassel clearly makes a statement.
