double taste

Baby makes times tethers in square midnight exposures, It’s the unknown soldier again, she’s not in the mood, but up on the scene, I make up an excuse and go try out on the tiles mythology, Somewhere I am sure I’ll find out how someone put this valentine into the end of the kaleidoscope on Friday mornings window side glow widow, Go out for a nomad we ignore, They are crazy and stupid, It’s purple lavender sun ups and sun down shadows, A bright orange fountain pours up through silky iridescent haze in the deep shades out stretched along their horizons, The mornings inner ultra raptitude A hint of honey and citrus glowing here and there through lavender obscuitities, The true tests of presence, The stretch of static pressure boundaries, Thinnest threading weaves through scales of blue indigo holdings, And their promises seem enough, To meet the wisdom or flashing metal voices, At the cool end of our procession, And if you wish, A perfect wind will flow through your broken cup, That says I want you to trust, A shapeless tear for a place to rest, And with no trace of remoteness, The fevers of treason will bless you, I hate the open hand but I can’t do it myself, I don’t have the time, And I want it my way, It was counter to breathing but I knew it was for me, So I was sucking on a castor bean, Listening to a dirty screen, Got me a potion of nights lonely proportions, I can hear the curtain call, and I’m about to fall. Like the dust that blows around, blacker and bushier, and joined a burning web as went all along the sides, and she was born again. An oily covering, Changed sides again. And couldn’t put out the fires, And as payment they had to put in an extension, Linked up the sand and laughed at my cracked feet, I stumbled on a volatile substance again, I just wanted a taste of something,. But I touched her inside, And I slipped down and I got squeezed Loose An easy wheel, She was a steal She didn’t know I was watching, I slid so silently up her thigh, Just the cry of the flooding of insides outing, Warning of the ghost butterfly, As she turned away, And the reach of impossibility Her laser shadow I wanted something I could claim and personify, Corrupt fragments of poisoned laughter, I became a lazy doubt. Flipside appetizer, Midnite analyser, Whose was chosen? Mine or hers? A pile of feathers left behind, The sign of a lamp hid behind a stamp, The tribe made the sign, And I had to tell her good bye,