Tuesday, January 24, 2017

True Dreams on Freret Street 20170124

I am not here.
Life is a caked musical note.
Vibrations resonate
Clothe the nudity
Apply clay to sound
Cosmetics and candle wax
Melting occupations
To be this, to be that
I am not sure I ever wanted
Anyplace
Attachments
Connected universal chord
Single sound
Vibrating from nothing
What is
No matter
Where the beings in that way down place
Are in the note
Layers of language
Erectile dysfunction television
Cat tufts and muttered smoke
Converse in a haze gasping
Thinning breath
Need to dive down
Store clocks warp consciousness
Trying to remember what we are
Ocean a melody of dissonance
Energy beacon power plant buoys
Vibrating
I am not here
I am writing books and reading labels
Nonfiction fences fending surface dwellers
An ocean a quadrillion quadrillion meters of water
All directions appearing in blink
Over bottomlessness
Infinite density
Vibrating
How can I feel so alone?
Hold my breath to stay on the surface
Expecting to talk
Enter rooms invisible
Not sure if I want to know
I might be afraid of connecting with anyone
Foolish god damn childish
Imp afraid to dance
Acknowledge the beauty in a diamond
Rocks
Ember of what is
Poetry, truth
Scent of mirages
Naked empires
Trying to love again after apocalypse
Sleeping through spring
Static radio
Dissonance guitar strum
Trying to hear your voice
Afraid to use identifiers
To attempt specificity
Blue lips and triceps tattoos    
I thought I saw you once
I wonder some nights
I am blind now
Valentines blade through cotton
Oxygen in the thin air
Let a nest arrest infibulation
Fears of massacred lovely parts of a body
Censored speech mixed in the twigs and bloody moss
Feathers lift to forget incantations
Spells we tell ourselves
That this is the no place
The place of poetry and matchstick words
The poetry of sidewalks and lighting green lawns aflame
Teenage messiahs made good
That the vibration is real  

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