I cannot find favor In loves growth chaperoned I have no detector No pocket ace No perfect way

Thoughts unravel This road I travel The end I cannot see In turn and twist My mind splits

Drag me down to the river, to wash these stains away. On it’s banks I cry, and drown the pain of yesterday.

I turn out my Flesh, To turn on my Spirit; The needs that come and go. A Turnstile counting; She’ll know it when she feels it,

to think without eyes or ears the touch or smell

I don’t know exactly how this came… but likely began with seed of doub… Or the question of truth, and getting no clue. So I filled in the blanks,

A letter written with love not to be mistaken for a love lett… Could all at once, once read end my affair with love. I could at a moments notice write…

Anna Sleaze is diseased. Like Typhoid Mary, and fucked with ease. Always with a “Please!” And a “MORE, MORE!, MORE!!”

Soot It seems you may have some soot To gather, to get rid No other place but on your face It stays, persists

Oral sex and cigarettes, in threadbare kindled corsets. Trading laces in a red lit bizarre… you mend your teddy with rusty wir… Are your goods morning market fres…

When I gather up the last count of my own scattered teeth. past present ovation for the failure of some cosmic sheath. of softened rain promised or the discord of confusions tone the mo...

These Bleeding Cracks upon my Fa… Split and Crawl as they Retrace Tears Draining from my Eyes Broken; Gazing in Disgrace.

You should worry, Babe; I am coming. I’m on my way; On the Return. That openness you shared with me,

The look of shame, stress; Hunger and fear, I resist the urge to free a tear. All I’ve preyed, caged; Gathered and spilled...

The sun rises quietly, and in soft… it paints. In this dayglow vibrancy, with ima… it reaches out. Waking those in need of light, cal…