My flower-wise passion drives You away to graves of my people That I loved and I yearn for They whisper secrets to me That collapse my person 

There is a nature-hand that presse… Against my feverish head After it has subsides there is a h… That envelopes me Not like before with an enemy gene

When this spring-wise air breaks Seeping along the oily tracks Heat saturated between sheets Of bustling motors and piercing ho… The streaming lights along the bou…

I was a statue in my lighted child… Given over by mild-demons  Swinging from the ceiling; smiling Their sweet releases unto my neck Waking between the curls of my cri…

It was whispered through cracks in… Secret sins that should be pardone… But who pardons the worms of the g… Slithering in its own filth Sliding back and forward

nside the mausoleum under wings of… Your spiderwebs drew around my aqu… Spraying words of ill-content Which i cared not; though listened With earnest 

Sleeping by the riverside I found the end  It reached my brittle gait Pouring in feverishly A little hand, calming my loins

I dreamt of a fever  Buried in this cold winter  Hearts warm the icicles Spread across my neck like jewelry Choking my cooled blood

Sing sweet into my heart, birds of… For it has come to that A mending of broken parts A joy that has no strings attached To touch-To feel some warmth

Statuesque in my moonlight I dreamed of hands Without holes; I have tried To bury all those roses Deep within as a mausoleum 

spied out my windy eye ear wards In a tussled-capped weather’s love Drowned in country hearts Filled these city rooms I draw In; split my lip in cement dreams

f I knew how to let things go I would be a windy-wily boy Passing the ball with the rest of… Letting the urges drown in the wel… But I am not of such

Joy is light footing on a steady g… It comes upon like a sparrow on th… To free me from these cursed walls… The ones that show my beating hear… And pick out the veins that have t…

As these so-ever slow dropping wat… A touch that seems unwanted, unmer… Feeding on my skin, eating essence Unfamiliar I stare at cold stony… Coursing from mean faucets

Had I been endowed with equal por… My mind would not give in to disto… My sunrise of morning glory Would be apparition of this story