Dirty, Neat. Poem by David James

Timelessly majestic, momentous blink.
caught awry as it chips at armors chinks.
Imperfect crescendo innuendo
dryly washes over us; wearing us.

Antique beat
dirty, neat.

Our heartless armor replaced by fetus
amour, the unavoidable chinless
breath which loves intangibilities test.

Spinelessly driven for love to drive us crazy.
Forever the fall, avoiding it all.
So why then, do we cry; as relations die?