it's like this anna. it's like that anna. (I'm only staring 'cos your ass is so fat anna)

 

I will give you god
in the static background
behind these beautiful im
perfections. There is truth
in order, but the marrows tooth
bites growth in discrepancy. I
will give you goodness in the
sincerity of indiscretion.

I will steal for you the skeleton
of a poem, and stack its spine with
the discipline of crafting absurdity.
You reader, decide if the intuitive
math presented, equates to bleeding

weaving through vertebrate.

I can not give you sin
as my separation sets free
restriction, and the stagnant
unity that demands constriction
seams to me a write not worth living.