rigid storm
Silhouettes of misfits ballet around my tomb
Seeking warmth they leave for the kings room.
Draping from black velvet skin like stones from a ribcage
Washing waves splatter over the lungs of my mind
Fog clouds my vision but I still see fine
Under my skin lies the diamonds of your time.
Dream of odysseys from impossible machines sent from deep forests that lie in my hazy mind.
In chainmail the lady stood, calling me to attention
Wax mountains of kissed mouths erupted from the ground
Like wooden seats in the sky
Sickening whispers of blue horns blazed in the kings pantheon
Like a Venusian fly.
Exploding plastic silver dreams of the seven French dancers of Sol
Leaping to where stars cascade
Growing fins that never remain
Leaving life unclean and unmade.
Breath in my skin
From my white couches within
Anchoring on foreign walls
Let them never save me from the fall.
green jay
vapid plume