remember when we were young

how can we count the stars
when purple chocolate clouds
still churn and obscure
all our lovely dead fates

erupting from summer’s dark blues
we emerge
lost and found
in a glorious and broken adventure
as black petals and white stems
plunge into oblivion
again and again
carefully we continue to play this
sacred and secret game
in a pattern that refuses to recede

chanting caustic and impossible poetry
locked in dark and longing eyes
still asleep under a fading sun
we manifest dreams of blurred passion
like symbolic and forgotten deities
waiting for worship and domination

helpless and inanimate
we shuffle in this absurd and dying cycle
stripped of vanity
and inverted
towards a greater purpose

complication and synchronization
waiting to reveal
another splendid misfortune
as the flesh melts into soul

trouble follows a bothered mind
and insanity is the beginning
of this crippled enlightenment
as we stray
ruined and born again
in this unfinished and tranquil tale

a failed king and a reluctant queen
distracted and paralyzed
in this savage and delicate world

intoxicating addiction
three tones
subtle and half remembered
animating slain waves
as obscenity and divinity
collide in an illustrious
and final consequence



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