Sun

To the Sun:

"If you ever walk on this street again, do it half-awake
self-assuring
you have
better yearnings and better lovers.

You go and say ''look at this fellas, they're steady, firm and fresh, and so be it!"
"I am on my own greatness" you say, "so what if he's gone?, I can pull January up my sleeve and laugh steadily halfway through it."

Better beings come bearing gifts.
"But where's the hay?"

She will grow to be a Mother of Vinegar and the world will not miss her.

(He will simply not)

-

"I prefer your eyes to all the beautiful lands I've ever stepped into."

Now isn't that bliss, Sun?

Watch your dog, Daisy

"Instead your eyes mean the world to me"

Watch your dog, Daisy.
He's touching fire.

She said "what's your name"
What's-her-name, Daisy?
She's underestimating our blood.

Whatever "betrayal" is, we're about to redefine its meaning.
Let us go Daisy.

Cousin Jo

I Found two Jo's,
one yesterday.

I said to my friend: I MUST BE CRAZY.

BUT RUSSIA IS BURNING

I said: RUSSIA IS BURNING!

Mate, it's not the weather.

Jo come right here.

Oh god, the irony of it.

I CAN CARE!

Rose Mallow

I.

He wrote carefully, the following:

" Faith draws from my face and it reads aloud <<your hair is in the winter>>
Truth is: whenever your hands supply
whether it be
out of luck
or with racy intentions:

I'll make sure to hug your bell, native blossom.

Rose Mallow forgive me if I ever screamed at you. "


II.

Truly thought of, my sky suggested.
I can swim in your pilgrimage, would not mind.

Rose Mallow, look at the witches, they dance around, coughing carbon:

"Sky's the limit" they sing



III.

" Oh no, she found ya! "


" Coco - "

I said to him

"- keep your flame burning."


I'm jumping off the tip of your pink ginger feet.
If you don't ask then I will never know.

"I'm set to worry."

Ice Tongues

Peace upon perfection, she said: "I have his flesh"
I said "you're a sweetheart on daylight and that's all."

At your best you can swing his bell with a fancy strut.
But your pledges are salty: do not work.

I may not be able to seize what I want
(blood of battle on the hill)
but I can tell you this:

We're more than blood buddies, our hands draw from ancient times.
Your charismatic façade may raise all sorts of nuances, but who assures you longevity?

I'm saying: your cards will expire,
until you don't look like yourself anymore.

There.

-

Unthinkable guns, Marilyn.

Soon, see.

Weather's keen

This is too good not to share.
89 and holding:

I was eager.
You threw the party down:
"When I decided I would be callous"

With black air,
and as the blankets begin to self-swallow, I said:
"Well, there is life in your skin and I'm not giving up."

It's a shame to think I'm against all odds as I'm peeling layers of questions stacking up.
Tidal says "weather's keen" on a creamy landscape, a dim sun that has yet to arise.

It's all good. I'm tackling you from another side, a hopeful solution.

Beautiful sunrise beneath my feet is begging:
"Don't approach another love, you were deceived in perished hands"

We can share cheap stories on this cliff.
You'd be eager too, if you could see me for what I would be.

"This is too good not to share." I thought.
"89 and holding."