"Before the fall."

Staunch, fat, biting gold.

I'll lay my name through, tooth.

A ruler engraved crown for crown.

Have a friend shill a coin to the ferryman when I pass away.

Smelling poppies on latent days rubbed drably against misty-eyed strangers I hope.

Visions of you, like breaking devaneio at dawn.

Scrolling ordinals under the digital skylight together begging God’s credit by the waters.

On life's stage we vainly crashed fleets of words abroad of each other's connection.

In attempt to capture by proxy the aditus.

How we slouched about the rooms now left empty of the inhabitants whose taste once raided inside them.

Our round faces pawning tailored passions read merry with habits.

Now hung loose fit we became deaths plastics cultists.

It’s all so fucking passe.

If only blood rushed echoes to rest in, ear.

You.

Litter bug.

You.

Bare it well.

Casting shade for former particle existence, estranged of the salience.

There beneath goldenrod limbs you're uplifting whispers.

Star gazing.

A lame thief I let sleep in my eyes.

Thy morning stars silver leaf falling mine laundered thought, playing here a note in banners painted fade.

Slaps past a march of cracked oil and gouache.

Almost Ad Victoriam.