felt the urge to pad my pupils as if a room with no windows
roil preaching two dying flowers shedding gravel from its fingers
one instant at a time we froze
and it didnt feel as if the earth was spinning

as if wingspread out of every cat who wanted nothing more
then its next rip of love
biting cries from its missing paw
once again hours turn into glaciers
and leaves our centers like the last words of mother

Ill give you my insides if the ground would open up for me
and his lips felt like execution while i laced there
watching the sewer run by remembering the fountain
in the playard drooling salt

kids echoed like chopper blades "dirty knees" propelling her into the grass
they felt like even the color blue wouldnt be able to escape her viscousurge

of consistency

once in a while eternity doesnt seem like a long commercial of violent discharge
and life seems a little sadder then death
but we die everyday and i feel its really admitting were alive that ferments
hOur dreams

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