Creating maps, a shadow of present and future,
I am scarlet, red ball of hope,fire with golden skin drooling in my cerebrum.
I hold your forlorn secrets of love, euphoria
Thoughts of tranquility, bewilderement.
The tassels of my veins drop from the abyss to your cascading voice
Voice of unheard owl,
Voice of stale rum from your creaking cabinet
Hear, the roar, then circle around the chords of fire and I shall put my sonder finger,
The soft baby fur in your twinings of eye
I may melt away, like the hot wax after the flamboyance of my stainless charm you see
That flickers on the epidermis of a new born child extending from it’s arm
Hanging to the knee joint of it’s granny.
Her skin, my revealation, my reflection.
You tell your clandestine tales as shackles to me, yet mingling in the soft comfort of
My nemesis-the Moon.
Curl your spirit, trim the patchy mud
Produce bouquet of roses
A potion of clairvoyance.
A coffin to immortal souls.
Jump on my palpitating marks of grace,
Swallow my gifted praise
Swallow the mercury,
The titanium I wear
the caress of my toes tickling your cold winters shrug
Embracing the pits you produced
The heinous acts of disgust
The conundrum play.
My vigor holds marks of indelible faith,
An alacritous Sirimiri
To compose the monotonous dry days
My nectar, sweet honey-suckle home to wanderes, the bandits, the truth holders
Producing a teacup of auburn rays
An array of shimmery light
The colossal rhythm on fingers
A dandelion kiss.