Half
known sins through
Other
lives together since
Whenever
they touched
On
devouring somebody
Tides
of the eyes
Of
those who
Deposited
turned
Into
lives
Intertwined
Undefined
Portraitures
of those
Lonesome
stepwives
Books
face out on the
Shelves
and runway chemical
Voices
and faces say
Come
to the cone tomb
Honeycomb
caves the home
Of the
fantastical murderous
Sledge
slain orbs then hear
Thou
from heaven thine
Dwelling
place together
Once
more one more
Time
together entwined
Shall
not cause the
Waters
to rise
Into
lives
Intensified
Divined.
In the
margin of things
The
ghost of his soul
Spirit
hardly exists hangs
Around
not wanting to leave
These
serial hard to
Lose
attachments in
The
myriad wings mobility
Sings
raven hadn’t spread
Nor
having seen neither
Joy impression
hadn’t
Returned
neither grappling
Incessant
for we are but
Of
yesterday dipped into
Flesh and
striven bone our
Days
upon earth are
A
shadow reserved
And tantrum
mantram
Hadn’t
seen nor withdrawn
Them
villainous sensations
Of
today’s tomorrow
Voyage
ghost margin deacon
Trenched
through the thin
Attachment
harbinger of
Things
fastened laughed
Nor
jostled hadn’t let go of
Holding
on to things he
Comes
back again to
Haunt
them.
