Under the canopy of lux --- castle, I believe, am in need to get sleep
with your influx body lingering calmly ov’r the sackcloth of hay --- hay weed
Look at ov’r the skyline need, & feel the pleasure of falling snow deep,
& take long breathe with an every curve we taking in the herds of sleeping sheep.
May be, am seemed a bit in hurry cos, am the stranger nobody, & would certainly be...
turned into the mist of secret wisp; lost in the rhapsody of capsidae night, shortly
& You’ll only find me in distant memory,
in your spherical artillery tear drops; in an every hinge of mystically mysterious misery
So, I believe, am in “want”; on “hunt” to soothe the thirst of lust --- bust arouse deep...
inside the gateway off of wild yearning. . . to have us both burnt up in flames ---
The Flames of discerning
cos. . . Ho, I believe, your love might be as cold, & mold as winter’s uncontrolled snow;
as warm & moist so deepen & rejoiced as the wring of spring’s grown glow
I ain’t even care of what you beautifully though ahh... ahh tumultuously bestow
lying naked ‘neath the same roof, under the sane sky;
on the lame hay sackcloth nearby the flammable fire wall "Ho!" Cos, what I just believe’s ---
I’m in need to satisfy another Moe --- Hoe.

No comments:
Post a Comment