Raging blue fuck
past the mesh of a neon dawn.
Shelter flesh and flatter scarcity
with the investing lament of a Saturday's silence.

Feel the dirt of pebble crusted appetite's
flake into the mouth's of morsel driven curvies
as the seldom leave space for the random.

Deliver this and come no more.

Dream deeper than night's past
as the welcomed skin becomes no-fold
while tree and sap so slowly divide.

Dig beneath what lies below
on wandering hands that feel plate glass
as single lined disasterpieces melt into
a phantom's mouth.

"Then the trinity splits again,
or something to that effect.
That's a catholic mass."

07/26/2011