Monday, August 31, 2015

Bulbs

He was in an altered state of consciousness
where she
opened aura of an altered state of consciousness.
They
veered right to unravel veneers to un-layer years
of
calcification. It’s ever in segments to stress
through
cultic limbs
to reach for essence. She underwent tears
of training
parked in space
as grounded as
concrete pillars.
He moves for abstracts to pillage sentences
where nights are dawns for transporting souls. She’s
opus born to wave in cryptic more accustomed to
daylight. Structure is but illusion where she efforts to
distress longstanding pegs. Both are neighbors to
debate in silence ever to season words where vantage
is attitude. Both tussle within
found in study for
humans sorely generated. Sunrise is but a glimpse ever
to examine a shift of vibrations ever to probe a psyche;
for both are challenged
to kayak through
deserted lands.

It frustrates a soul lost in fragmented dialogues to
witness a familiar image;
but life is far away mirrors ever to remind of damage
where luggage unloads turmoil. 

I’d Save The Reader Years

    The beat becomes sickness. A long crucible—a drilling ecstasy. I was losing focus, feeling forbidden, if to self, if to mirrors. So curs...