Trans
Lightsaber-toothed styled liars
slay the monarch of truth
with denial and desire;
sharp and swift—smile of fire—
And all of this teething is leaving
my mouth seething and bleeding
with new meaning.
The conundrum is cracking in a bout with demise
as fruition releases its strung out butterflies….
Spinally.
And as I lay here drunk on finality—
A mass execution of extreme contrast
sandblasts the lucid memories I’ve amassed—
While I walk through wonderfalls glazed in glass
to preserve the gleam of my sacred past.
This new brand of heaven
is a place that I can carry in my hands;
My hands are now leather.
I can hold you up forever till it’s better.
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