when the seed turns to dust and we can only lust after the thoughts of the beginning to only find the end

as my thoughts turn orange you see and cling to me wanting to do what you use to do and now the physical is gone

i am the bottom of Cinderella’s sl… not seen and feels many hurts was caressed once when yonder a man searched for his… one to call - his love

no going around the bush here picking the posies to expose the bleeding tears - sear with the hot rung a rose left dripping with the memories

with it’s icy soaking fiery gaze it all ended, blown away with out a care, for the other what did he mean by that when he wrote it with red pen

the thin pentacles growing tentacl… covering over as if by suffocation the dwelling in which you live and know what fine line lays between each second of a minute

i would like to exhale on a fiddle… tap dance on the king’s crown perish in the fire, with you looki… some duck in aisle to hide from th… gathering of these could bring a s…

if i mix red and blue will it make… or a fragment of the odor it could be the base or nothing at all the wash between cycles

as it’s moisture fills the cracks… my lips, and i slowly draw my hand from my hips to appeal to it the bliss of the pure essence delivered from such a small burst

the skin of the fruit peels the silver wrapper off of the kiss, as i place in your mouth —the melting seeds

as we dance on the clouds you sing to me spraying your colors all around reflecting your art

my soul - cry’s out try’s to seep out leaks out fly’s in drops