Self Portrait
Pampered by our moon, or your light,
like monkeys, believers of our world.
Or settle in a wooden cottage as you wish,
in a life like the one we’ve had.
I will need to ask you for more—
if you allow our love to survive life,
or allow our stories to survive death,
or if I will be able to live through it all again.
My monkey, like the believer of everyone’s world,
to be pampered by everyone’s moonlight.
In our world, we
dwell in a space near your ash—
like the novelty of any moment,
fine and bright.
Love Evolution
Who sees the wonders in your voice?
Who sees the smile on my face when you break ice?
Who knows your unblemished love?
What made me a woman of joy with burned stoves?
Someone has to deploy all;
Someone has lost his (蓝/blue) kale.
Who wants to take me to the orifice?
Why need my name for the sacrifice?
Ann— the ‘grace’ spill of a girl withstanding the altar
Who keeps your light in her dark swirls.
Witchy and Wonderful
The plants that converge to your vegetable garden
are showing all things yours are forsaken.
It is erroneous you and I are connected by flesh, tight
by hurricanes and lulling waves, evenings brightened
with no ecstasy. My words have kept you alive
the ways you imagined. Or now you’ve
become the Space-Oddity Man. The tastes on my tongue delved
in your skin’s flavour. The many kings before you favoured
dust like diamonds in their headrests, and more love
gets sold to whom knife-pleat by the mundane.
Twelve-year-old Frenchie snore-slept in her queen bed,
outside my prison ward, asphalt-black ravens and yellow eyeballs
attacking. This is what’s left of us. You, up in my ceiling,
pages turned, commanding all but generalizing.
Last Debacle (June 1st, 2023)
After A.E. Stallings “Frist Miracle”
His soul is like a garnet stone
Shining, indelibly bound to who has made it reborn—
The discovery of a foreign hardness so marvellous
Wandering lust beyond the pig-feet calluses
Melting into the Popocatepetl or juxtaposing his fate
With the procession, many decades are preceding his mate.
His liver shrunk his heart and painted his bed sheets
Whereas he received her love in million beats;
He meant to renew his cosmic ordinance; however
He forfeited his candour with fleeting anger.
All the Love
All the love there is in you—
Till your words begin to fly
Crazily
Against my blank page;
All the love you’ve given to me—
Till your new world
Begins to separate
Our archaic life;
All your love and cry for time-being before _______
Till your words begin to feel
Real: ____________
A world that is undivided and divine.
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