Saint Augustine sings the seventh

"I am not afraid of anything anymore,
it's all concrete - flesh and flowers"

because of you,

She begged an opinion of found love at a rosed-cheeked age,

As this was all she knelt for,

her kin had fell deeply, maddeningly in the arms of there soul’s sunken halve.

Arise therefore..

How big was there universe?

Hold your wiry words

Perhaps it better to create a smaller universe that way there is not so much space to fill, so much emptiness.

Hyacinth Prince.

A kaleidoscope of graphite embellished the pores within his skin marring his expression with a ceaseless Medusans’ grin.

He wore an array of flowers that he would drape upon his figure as if ashamed of the lucid flesh that permeated beneath the flora & fauna..

Skin crafting the air with heralded hormones..
foresting a scented mirage of fervour

This caused me to great him each time with both hands out stretched like a beggar, I would gesture towards his face and enfold it with both hands.

Those damned grand thorns.

monument

she deserved a little living too

Hollow King

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us - if at all - not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.
........

Life is very long
Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow
For Thine is the Kingdom
For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

TS ELLIOT.

Moody Moon

timeless machines;

eye rivers

Aishiteruyo.

found a soul, left her..

utter transparent sanity, utter incoherent confidence

failure to fail

petrified

sentiment

A self sufficient soul savaging the kindness of newly bred romance.


Examining the portal of naivety concocted within the laboratory of all girl boarding halls,
Tall tales of suggestiveness passed around like camp fire fodder and folded in each palm of praise,

Prim rose complexions upon faire eyed felines’ that still mirror the reflection of an honest born universe,

Perhaps they inhale only un – recycled weightless oxygen and exhale a cloud of colour into the exhaust fumes of university attained chariots.

Do there supple chest’s beat rhythmically in tune with their forefathers fortune’s

Palpitations of future forays into hallway fairs lit with chandeliers and pools of aged wine laughter.

Un tarnished joints growling and hissing at the prospect of time,

Impatiently pleading with the universe as the only waiting they endure is that of there summer flight,
Mileage scented business class burns fuel there fathers founded.

Virginally intact waiting for an accented access found only in.
plentiful princes velvety groomed and inaudible under there sheets of gold emblazoned armour.

Amour amour,

A key to there citadels,

Whilst they arrive to marketing fields of capitalist embedded fountains in european heiroglyph.

There princes polish the shell’s of former femininity as they entwine in an athletic haste of Grecian all male competitiveness.

It is in this stairwell of nostalgic valour our imaginations glide towards vintage reality

yet I watched there chambered hearts, and wept with gilded laughter.

Lion,

I really want to see you, little lion
walking under the sun
I really like you little lion
it makes me sad, little lion
for my lonely heart
it's enough to have found you on my way
young leon, ray of the morning
captivating my look like a magnet
my heart is sun, father of all colour
when it briighten your skin
I like to see you on the sun, little lion
to see you getting into the sea
your skin, your light, your mane
I like to stay on the sun, little lion
to make wet my mane
to be next to you, and come in

form from the mule

create a heart,

flowers for a kitten.

for

texture,

the leaves grew and were reborn as were we.

framework for humanity

italo,

little reindeer tear,

Dandelion dance

elvi,

wild flower mannerism

mark the face as to not be deemed a marketplace

a city that swallows lively and hollow

forget not what you thought you forgot.

royalromance

she said she sells sea hells to the sea whore's.

eyes of the hearth

i didnt know,

rain in spanish air,

a feeling becomes distorted

parading the lost

after the night,

animal my soul

prfect,

loi.

Viola for fluer

Janie Taylor for Chloé on Nowness.com.

everybody lazy,

pay for travel,

flower

mouth said stop but heart said never

two each two own.

there must be a glow

im taking photos of the things i will forget

r.ip mrk.

minimal flesh