It is somewhat misleading to believe that you are not as deep as the sky Deep in yours eyes, I personify the chorus of an angel’s cry, the wings which untie the wild flesh of black Versailles, black boy with a love harvested in the womb of the anti-monarch’s lullaby A peacocked-Mars sky You are other wordly
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See Allsink me deep into foreign collisions. Craved the carbon of Her. I, assess the elements of my casket. Her silence Consent to my dissolve...
She was the mountain in a world of ash. Her hands trembled softly over the currents of my body, Shifting tides into tsunamis colliding...
Slow steeping hills Always running Away from the people beyond 96th St In the heat rising up from concrete tires grinding into lost souls...
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