Saturday, 2 July 2016

soul as its' pen

let the tide fold backwards
and release our passions against
this purple moon.we are celebrated
cosmic fires and dissolved into
mimed planets. i've run out of art
and you can't help me find the sky;
it will always rise.
i am crying with ancient tears and
as they stroll down me;
they become my now.
steadfast and i behold
the universe as my paper
and my soul as its’ pen.
it is easy to fill my body
with your empty noise but i
cannot stare into the outside 
of this indigo any longer.
i crave your skin be 
sealed with mine 
mine and thine at one 
omniscient
as we once were 
and 
never were.



 

granted avalanche

when we arrived  the amulet was damaged and  broke the moments erased. the moment you get out of that. it has left our warped feeling of wha...