Sunshine corpses littered in candlelight novellas, their little daydreams a figure of
salvation for those brought better on minefield than their own house
Rings of cardamom and plum sugar lustere in the presence of a culture, birthed by fear
and cryptic in reality
I blow the smoke from my tea, its succulent mist, flourishing my face with her memories
Sunlight drying the porsche of my paintings, each figure a luminosity between seances
of night and day, gingerly tended love and sermon hate plotted with the illustrations of a
dozen oldest sisters
The cutting of words against a heart, a six- are old memory
The blueberry cake shared in the fore springs of barbie and her friends
The sweet -minded worshiper in bloody cavalry
The dance of sunlight destinies mustered by the sky to the moon in human tattoos of
expression
The frozen Appalachians of green grass I cross every day, its green rays a polished
dewy mirror of progressing nostalgia
The sweetened hands after its filament of sittings have been surpassed, the catatonia
of mindless whispers upon the adventure of a season of examinations
The timeless rubber bands etched in my mind, its strings being a violin of emotions
after my examination
I grew the daintiest of mysterious in daylights of frozen spring as I venture into forgoing
lands
Islands Russian glossaries and bibles of companionship
Bridges of lordships and lady dresses, rich camouflagic words, enticing like a forgotten
wedding bell, its candelabra thoughts and summer honeymoons an escaping crisis
Ribboned hair buns against velvety couches, lending their beings to a world beyond their
peripheral sight, with serpents and sirens dancing alone, with the clasp of ebony rich
dresses bleeding through hearts of healthy boutiques
Each rising earthquake an echo of a child’s unexplored dream
With carving intelligence, sharper than a raven’s soul on ties to a crown, and hell’s dreary
ice chamber soft with the dewdrop of guilt and serene remorse.
Propelled into a glass ball of liberty and power she delves, leading into her dream of
kindred Mayflower and their destiny of a new propelling inflection into a sanctimony of
conch shells and crucifixes,
the angelus in beige electrons of desired solitude with the mudras in every anklet of
peace in coral protons
the waves of cornflower psychosis wrapped in Sulphur Lilies, dancing to the success
being distributed on palm leaves on a Blessed Sunday
the enigma of a witch’s periscopic glare into her klephtic future on a molting pike being
the fateful release on the ebony bullets with the shatter of a coconut on brown soil,
wishing for a lighter spirit
the claustrophobic envisionment of mirrors rampant in the secularism in the poets of
Ghibli and Shayaris of revitalizing love from hellfire stones that bear the death of their
lover to be used as their stone for success
the materialistic urge of fearless endearment into a unknown utopian Madagascar with
the glowing kaleidoscopes on a virgin of blue and red, to be reinstated into her brown
spirit and rekindled in the test of fires in eucalyptus and jasmine flowers and flown in
the ancient thobe of red and duskan ember
For I would rather carve my anklets in the gutted remains of my past than not free my
soul’s tinkling laughter from phantoms of blue, white and yellow.
I specialize in gothic fantasy and literature. I draw inspiration from nature and female rage.
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