Dearth of Death

Oh, from what depths is envy birthed?
Such a vice creeps slowly
Preternatural
From the confines of hell
And the Devil laughs at its ascent*

Death does not lead into awe
Darling deity, express your grief
At the spectacle of our beliefs


*J. Kulla

An Adieu to Accusations

Prerogative -what a mistress
As she sits beside you, enticing with piano play
And Faustian logic
And all the while, gazes descend
Unreadable

Take what is yours from aesthetic assertiveness
As you bite the hand that feeds
“Foolish girl, you spite yourself!”
Inconceivable

Anecdotes and Arms

My thoughts reside with him, although
Tumult exacts blows
Across confusion and lucid dreams
Perplexing me, vexing me
Still I remain
Cradled in congealed wounds,
Anecdotes, and arms
I am becoming

Blue Light

Words to manifest emotions
Because three latter sound too plain:
(Yours are always an exception)
Nights to drown in pools of thought
But romance always resurfaces

Validation

This empty water bottle in my hand
As I pace about the shelves and volumes
Enough to quench my thirst
Why do I feel so parched, then?
You gorgeous distraction
I’m running late for no occasion but yours
Needing you so much closer

Equi-nots

A blossom’s mirth expires
Come September
Everything’s eventual
Still, the scheme perpetuates in your absence
And in Your lightness

Meter and Mime

Ring unsynchronized symphonies
Like that of a boxing ballet

Juxtaposed between the neon and the night
You’re so transparent
And lucid in this violet light
Picture me peephole pretty
And let me in