deepundergroundpoetry.com
c r o s s c h e c k
We lie on the ground
untried-uberdreamy-
carmen figuratum
our toes curl-catching dreamspores
in their nerveless flights
We revolve in space
dreaming neath the
blue half-truth with daubs of
gold-crimson-silver of
the latelit evening sky
which contemplates opening up vistas
and ushering in the favoured angels
from childhood dreams
Our unmoving eyes fail
to capture the merger
of our astral selves
and rather watch familiar shapes
drift only to get pulled back in
by the sheer force of will
Our sunkissed brown skin
hold back the secrets
until the hypnosis ends
in a grueling moment of profound semblance
I am the one fallen-
failed-skyward-stuck
Our leftovers stare back
the discarded wrappers
and torn cartons block
the minimalist beauty
inherent all around me
I blink-begin to miss you
in domino effect-
slow-setting-effective
the difference between
the acts of the night
and the motions of the
day soundless-seeping-
fluid-starts to dawn
at sundown in the thin
layers between adipose
and meristematic there
are moments when I feel
you you you you-you-you-flowing-gushing-brushing
I sense the build-up in
the oblivion-continuing
to balance myself as
things-sounds-beings go back
to where they came from
whereas I remain
residual-gross-material-mentalist.
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