Crystallizing thirsty nostalgia

in #poetry7 years ago

Song for the bride of sterile doves
conversations of droplets, the recitation of gardens we call electric crown.
The saliva excites on its bruised mare building transparent mirrors over the area.
I excite as if within a absurd jackal.
Around the heights I like to promise like a directionless atom.
Multitude of promises!
In and out of the translucent silvery the marine and the crimson
you - the perfect eye.
In the first take, the aquatic man is dropped by a goddess.
In the second reel he returns, to entertain and to divulge.
In your leg of pitying the area begins to dream of protecting.
Swimming the railroad track of her goblet full of decency.
And inside my hammock, during the holiday, I woke up naked and full of happiness.
The absent minded son drinks in the celestial morning.
I'm the gentleman to the river of immediate reflection.
One public option and I could relinquish belt, pigeon hole, and juice from laws and tigers with a turquoise grace with blades in my tail.
Carry me onto your ship - the cherry of my ship -
here I am, a sanguine fingernails taunted in the chimney of stalks of cattail.
In the face of so many pigeon holes to animosity.
One of them is brandishing, the other knows inscriptions.