strychnine queen i am here and we are time.
by the slightest movement of your hand suspends
said of the the watchband hero
sunlit never knows signals like
that single movement of your eyes past
shimmering hair; aching tragic slavic dark eyed
uninterested the
apathy & beauty in your honor.

you are gone and we are time.
a luscious heap of youthful splendor
pressing heat makes the cling as sore
that single passing of your eyes
guilty nonchalance
and nothing

i am rot and you are time.
by the movement of your hand i creep
imploding love of wilting passion, of rabid heat
we, so well together
cling in drowsy sleep; NO-MATTER-IN-MIND.
victim of punchdrunk jubilee
lovely sunday's blasted valentine
Alex there is no trace of pine cone whatsoever 040413
what's it to you?
who go