My euphoric stammer.

You and the vibrations of this velvet believer. 

Your shine is centred in the morning feathered with faith.

The symbiotic summer of our crawling bodies.

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Could I misplace my wars , could you replace trust over that window , near the door? See, the exhaustion of the burning star,  see the revival of imprisoned scars.

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A streak of light covered in raspberry and roses , you stitch in that lonely strand of my hair.

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And I roll my scrolls in lilac legality, gentle genesis of our mayfly lives.

The trial of youth , a tension of being twenty seconds ago , the murdered dream of a child.

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These veiled and faded memories you silence before they spill out of the tea stained borders,
the attempts of time to wash your tongue clean of all the words you resonated with at the touch of an even sharper tongue, fails.

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You were looking for a better sleeping pillow over my riddled breasts breathing fire and harmony. Wine tasting and chocolate clouds over your mountains echoing into a luscious laughter of two unaltered pieces of the same sorrow.

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Quit the smoke, keep the ashes.

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I have painted some breathing clouds over your chest. I have submitted you my devotion on neatly pressed together letters. My red purse is heavier with whiter pearl beads roaming , reading the insides of the pockets.

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Old songs , never cleanly cut themselves off the nerves , do they? Silence beats in my chest, but I strangely sit with my tucked hands , my stitched mouth. And listen to the roars and thunders , how are you?  It's not too easy. To let blue jazz devour my yellow and bright hopes dimmed ; classically.

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It was so severely scarlet, so secretly shattered. This crime you committed, should I honour you for handicapped memories?  For being a mystery. 

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