i miss not being blessed by the many...
till the dares & rains callapse,
fortescue and times elapsed...
four & 2 & pours each hallow,
derive from me all anti-column.
& cloven and stutter, force of nature
angled here for all sparks mallow.
and arrangement of heavens
lost space lament.
in increments it slowly follows
each bluish hour
with the flapping sea
& only in standing idle
do rebrant totals fill the air.
the mossy extremes of earthly always
patter down the doors of loving
with the fingers of the all-gaunt spectre
stuttering with intricate naked colour.
blushing & subtle
in the most beautiful eyes of yours...
a kiss, not to be bested by any...