Washed in the fair shade of jasmine.
The color of cover and ulan memory.
I move, four-square on getting closer.
Yet, partitioned by tempered glass.
My face is wiped clean;
there is nothing but a glimmer
through the resound of spun blades.
Spoken breathless like an ecru dream.
-winter storage shed pt. i-
I’ve set reminders on the calendar
I’m sure I have redeeming qualities
(Though I’ve geocached a
community of composted quirks...
Like my vocabulary, and my “used to be”s)
I leave an ellipses in my wallet
Read. Seen. Always left up to memory.
My pallet is full of eye rhyme and lemon
Something sour, that flows like citron river
Something sweet, like forethought of you & me.
-Lucubration in twilight-
I listen closely as you talk in your sleep
For any mention of kalopsia
The strange noises from the sky
Plastered in the form of fulgurate pulse
The sighs of eucalyptus blend with rumbles
Of a distant thunder between our chests
I am left stricken. In awe of eutony.
The style of effusion so unlimited
Selcouth sounds, and arbitrarily agog.
-Lucubration in twilight p. II-
I floated as an errorist in the past
Performed in palinoia toward a storm,
entreated for elysian as it progressed
Let my thoughts drift in a lake of stars
Face to face, they flare with anti-opaque imagery
A solasta inclination in a now-irrigated solar system
An orb of notion, amidst the settling petrichor
Culminating in symposium of forty winks.
©Alchemy & Elegy