quackakeri

how nasty is the day!
the circles fish conjour,
lack of summer and lack of winter,
press again against when awkward expires
and fail a jaundice sky,
Zepyhr, supplant my breath with ambiti…

Slow drips fall down the wall
Sets the scene of a
Tragedy
Surely, you take this with pessimism
But tragedy can be
Flowering
The burn of the browning papers
Explosion of
Black in the co…

Everything descends
Looses tone
Shudders
Deepens
Everything merges
Beats and wants the same
Corrupts
Circulates
Everything kills its self
Rips
Acidifies
Strips
Everything quest…

It’s almost twenty-past-four
Yes, the light dances on your eyelids
I’m drawn to the weapon that is your-
You.
And I say, with less than that of hesitation
That you:

You are painted like…

I think he is wrong
He is a
Negative
An abstraction
To believe euphoria lies in somewhere but here

For him to pursue
a state of denial
When we happen to meet again
In the cold snow…

Thriving towards the missionary
Captivated by your passing beggary
Turning oceans alive with you’re thrashing passion
Into stone
Once we were buried alone
Under obsession and erotica
C…

I’ve thought about it, love
What an eternal affair
Less like the dirty feeling
Of the droning fading stamp from drunk’s door
The printed regret of yesterday
The stubborn stain of tomorrow …

I’ve lost my glasses
I was humming to the tune of a woman
When I became unchained
And then
I took off my glasses

I’ve no idea where they are
I’ve traced my steps
I’ve always needed to …

I’ll be back when the tide comes in, ok?
There’ll be a piercing ghostly glow
On the little green bottles by your wicker basket chair
Oh and that dampened black abyss by the remote
Ignore th…

There was sunshine, remember?
Cherry lips on a saint
Deep rhythms
Pumping. I could feel it. The pumping.
Smiling sunflowers and daisies
Even too disruptive. Wind blowing, breaking their b…

To you these words make no sense, like a flower in a field of weeds
But I can see clearly now, that the nettles are blossoming seeds.

His dreams a sign of escapism
A sign of reality escaping him

In my moments of clarity,
Everything is clear to me,
Whilst I lie in my world of immunity,
I’m surrounded by people’s vulnerability,
Their tears are a sign of prayer to me,
Or their frowns…

You’ve done it again
I smile. 5.06. The end