Have Her

(If you're going to) Have her aroused, do it on a mountain.
Do her whole, short and sweet.
Disguise your anger today and bend her three-quarters down on the floor.
As enough of a woman that she is, she would want it.
Her rosary falls down to the floor as she bites from the tree.

You have made her a woman.
But she would not want this for the following days, hold it inside.

Lament (White)

Now defeated,
to valleys that have overflown within the impossible hour.
I will follow.

Briefly
settled. Almost through the nose and down to this valley in forbidden hardenings.

"It has become pale"

They will be lucky to reach your unreasonable heart.
Down-a-scale but I watch your words
I argue with your unreasonable heart.
When cold as snow
Not looking sideways: "The sun suits you"

How to work a twist, rubbing your head the wrong way

You are soaked in the sun.
I can't help but wonder if your fossils were once sweet when
drawn into light-years.
In blossom.
Towards an abysmal descent within frames of frozen drops in the air,
falling down to a rose that has open white arms, in a firmament.

For The Future

Have it.
Autumn speaks in tongues for the future of ourselves, but I need to look at the past.
There you overfluttered my valley.

The remains are easily forlorn. "A sphinx has been civilized."
The girl returned to your calves.

I was smart, fool.
With you being baptized I was able to unlock the sky.
But further looking I see you faking
as your hands held ice

for a repressed nation.

I try to speak in meaningful twists but rather hoping. You are not nodding.

Irony has
smoked
your
bad
blood
out.
To be able to cry is not to be able to hold back the fear.

You raised a tale, told a tale, decorated.
My money is on the table:

"She probably sucked your life today."

"Is that right?"

Unbreathable Sadness

The candles found their way into dimness.
The light was here earlier, but left with a brownish curl.
I am not thinking.
What a calvary:
I have fallen for wonders that have circles in every corner.

You came to Roseville once, to light my grass.
There were massive boulders that washed away our survival, but we traced a line together.
I taught you.
You hid your rosary but there was not a single drop of guilt in your eyes.
I taught you.
You hid your rosary and the ashes from your tombstone.

Your vain interests are circling over my head, and the truth steadily laughs at your black humor when I begin to realize you don't please me.
How do I manage to have you please me (with yellow-brownish happiness)
having me pleased you before,
ignoring your ravishing, impeccable swagger.
Passionless swager.

Back to the field, to the Calvary.
Who's to know if St. Christopher's blood cells have any advice left.

I moan here. But I remain mute for you.
Solar shields are heading south.
Jesus knows where you stand:

Overseas.

Clockwise

Today "you" is an uneasy word, that easily slips by.
I needed you here, exhausted or bare.

I wander on my own, but you were meant to say something.
I am waiting for the lava to hit the shore, where I stand.

Clockwise.

I am not used to your approaches being brief.
For once the sunflowers are now turning to the other side, not facing the sun.

Plans, Journeys.

These days there seems to be betrayal floating around in our block.
But what do we all conceive as 'justice' ?
You smiled but you hid your past.
As part of your plan.

As part of my plan I can prove there are better ideas on this side,
but you're not stepping out of your game.

/

They carrying a sign that spelled WISDOM was not a true portrayal of wisdom itself.
I did notice, and as I started unraveling their layers I found that WISDOM was BETRAYAL instead.
Do you smell it, Oswald?
The smell is thick and full of hunger.

Do understand that WISDOM is not given to the right people.
But they smile to you, carrying the word of this fake wisdom, and I always knew their past.

To you I say:

I refuse to let you calculate your future.
And I refuse to let the omens find their way to your door.

You are knocking on wood, not so worried.
As if layed in comfy clay.

I will fight for my place.
I will fight for your place, I cannot find me without you.
(The honey is at the tip of your star.)

And I will render the wood for you to knock in.
If it's needed, wanted.

Knots

How to untie this knots I have found
since
several weeks ago.
Well I keep finding knots.

And the key is not to untie them
but to use them as your strength.

Don't think it through because you will smile at the end.

People have crawled, people have smiled.
We will crawl, we will smile.

So, when you need words, I will help you.
Even if I have fourty-thousand knots around.