A tornado haunts the wind
stream
With a riveting
polarity the torso is severed at the point of exemption. In the midst of violent acrimony, the jagged
lens of an anguished shadow reveres the shuttering flow of arithmetical limbs
unadorned. Upon a barren sunset, the
tragic reminder of totalities betrayed, emanate, yet never emancipate, those
demons harnessed to the tautest of sinew.
Razor blades showcasing
their discontent to those of disconnected premises— preambles used to offer a
free vial of gaslight to any outsider delicate enough to witness the upheaval
anon and still remain focused as strongly as they are at the present moment.
Oh, the afterbite!!!
Lifeblood
changes when immersed in bubbling rivers of grief.
Diagnostic postscripts remain unresolved. This dilemma is for no reason other than a
sudden, yet momentary lack of ink.
Consignation must unfortunately be delayed until the morning after the
morrow. Such contrivances and misgivings
occur whence the inkwell runs dry.
i hope then my inkwell never runs dry...that can get pretty brutal....smiles...
ReplyDeleteHope that inkwell can get filled back up soon, thankfully when one is a loon, it doesn't matter. That and a keyboard haha
ReplyDeleteFirst stanza in partic. is replete with very strong, visceral imagery -- I winced a couple of times (which means you did your job well!). The metaphor is carried through v nicely
ReplyDelete