that has been, was so raven
that you were hugging vanity
for the deportation of death
as a living;
...
a kiss
on lips, returns with a blunt style,
in perfumed demeanor!
...
i make ready myself for an insult
and chest pain, keeping unshorn hair like nettles
on contours, to take unknown turns for restoring
the clouds on moon-blue hills, spreading the water colors
...
not enough
howls of tormented birth
under a homeless roof, arresting the light,
a bleed from the pungent breast,
...
The peace has a random price;
buried by sea of volition in knee deep puddles of
saline mud, being in being, after the crash,
to keep dissent alive.
...
It was a searing moment in grueling
heat of your flesh, the racist attack had come
to surface, the blue eyes,
...
Why deceptive retrieve
in a wheelchair
for the fallen?
...
A cult of sound without lips
was growing. The veil had staked its claim.
Staying myself I thought I will become
you; there would be a lured kill!
...
No anchors. I was not seeking
a blind spot
in shadows of the wall, standing
...
Cereus was in bloom in nightwashed
desert, sand was cool, it tipped off
the contour drain, a river sent its compliments.
...