slide whistles and mute conversations a different call this time
stale air flushed colors the finger prints rub through. i
streets flow into water so clumsy and perfect i threw
with a full right turn the process of rotting teeth
in a dead room the void of motion raises hair
even in passing would your coughing go unnoticed or chime
The end of improvisions
Split fingernails I bring to the fold
Painted
on the silver screen one way streets bring on smiles
say i feel relieved or satisfied just the opposite. i
Pacing through carpet, middle of empty rooms the particles span
The adaptation is not so well, leaving ridiculous funerals and
The chemistry has sunken in and I have overcompensated the
staring with vacant eyes moments go by and then race
"give me some time because i can't catch up". clawing
You can clock the pastel shaded sketches of the dissected
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