Saudade

i like kissing this and that of you

[acolouthics]

dear you are not made of star dust. you are not the left overs of an infinite expansion scheme. you weren't spl it in two an age ago. you have never squealed through a storm on the heels of an broken planet. you do not blink in sync with the Gas Giants of old- in fact there is no Goliath to your David. no anthony to fail and fall when following your Eastern Star. no Brutus will not listen to your ruminating about faulty lights; perhaps in another time. (dear i am made of dirt dust; i am the shore of a vast sea. stars don't compare to shattered moon beams on broken waves.)

'sorry i'm not sure you quite know what you mean to me': #2; daily -isms for you

[acolouthics]

such is a feather to move lightly with her wind without concious choice

'the day i say no is the day gravity takes hold': #1; daily -isms for you

[acolouthics]

and i an going to use this rage to light those old bellows make that forge inside the stars Explode with a force equal to the Inspiring madness of a failing Anthony;

-you will all fall on your swords, and I shall be the One to give that Final Push,

let myself outshine the brightest of the East for i am not written in  History, 

and a Queen would be to low a thing to claim me to be)

[acolouthics]

there's this thing; something so hot and terrifying and beautiful - fragile in its' existence, like a sandstorm made up entirely of glass. there's this place; somewhere damp and woven and mesmerizing - subtle in its' magnificence, like a vein built up of solid tears. there's this time; somewhat chilled and still and stunning - cracking in its' benevolence, like a god buoyed up by faux prayers. there's this girl; someone so crystalline and opal and onyx - scattering spectrum in refracting shards, like a caricature fixed up by the bastardised frescos of fallen angels.

me, forever ago

[acolouthics]

xi. 

curiously enough, curiosity is tough:

an added curiousness -  that sweet swing of your hips.

i am inquisitive of that mental sedative, excreting

from your eyelashes.

prying apart your ribs to find out that your Heart

is merely a fib, which is ironic really considering the lengths you employed to keep it hid(

i know about those nightsduring those Nights how You Cried overandover; and then could-n't Breathe. I Know About Them I Really sincerely Do;

)but no more about this what is tough is that -

Curiously Enough,

you're really Hit and Miss, being make up of white tiles and long miles.  

[acolouthics]

I just want to feel you heaving chest against my palm as you catch your breath after we have ran from those guys who caught us stealing those gummy bears, and we're trying so hard not to laugh.

[acolouthics]

i am near damn certain that your ghost  is touching me more  strenuously that you ever have 

[acolouthics]

oceans are vast deserts are dry  mountainous are large jungles are dense:

all of these are Very Obvious Facts.

i assume you thought i was going to add something romantic in here.

Well. I am Not. This Poem is just

Stating The Obvious, and Obviously You

Don't

Care;

for my Romanticism. why Else would;

would you (Leave Me Al

one),  

[acolouthics]

i will never know your innermost Complexities. i will perhaps, then, gaze upon your Star clusters- until you burn out; and i am left with the after thought of your hips against Mine;

[acolouthics]

"i have lost my rain; scatter my ThunderStorms across Your dry plains, hope to evoke a soft hurricane Isabelle One More Time, tonight." i write but never really,as really is too real for someonewhohasnever really been real really ever

[acolouthics]

I was In Love; once, I tell you (what i don't say is: Wi -th. Yo, i gasp and writhe and Refuse to finish with an; a. Ah. ,) You are In Love always, You laugh. I Know this, I nod as my heart brea- ks. (u. i stencil into the trails of someOne's spIne.

dear you from a chicken ass me

[acolouthics]

metaphors are lies, as they say something is something it Is Not;

curiously, i wonder (pondering this A Lot) if you are a lie.

Are you an Image: built on pillars of salt-and-sand- weaved like a basket- White;

I want to know The Truth of your atoms (

were you forged in the Heart Of A Burning Ball Of Hydrogen And Helium; making myself weightless and speak higher and make a loud popping sound when put in The Vicinity of Fire

) i want to know How This was Made Possible,given that You are Human:-

possiblyihavent Figured It Out yet.

-you are a fabrication, ithink.

i guess you will just have to skim your shooting stars on my still waters

to Validate this Hypothesis.

[acolouthics]

i'm screaming. whispering, actually. in fact it's more of a whimper. actually, it's a soft exhale which i wish to wail. it's those words "you make me less lonely less me less just less"; without you i am aWaste- wading into the wishlessness of- wasting which- what an awful bother i seem to have ran out of double ewes. my apologies,

[acolouthics]

i pushed the moon further away from your wanting grasp, just so i; me; myself: could gently blow it, towards the light in the centre of your spiralling dust clouds, whenever you cried out

[acolouthics]

she was my shore but he was her sea, lapping up my imprints(m inuscule and s- oft) with salted, rolling waves.

i proceeded to concave.

[acolouthics]

just

tear me a; par t. with your seamless 

ministrationsrotations os culations:

just. make me not-

sh-ud;der ring ing i-ing. 

you b;end mememememe likE A Bow; pullmystringletmeg-

o.

[acolouthics]

the swell of your salted seas: i am entrapped. enthralledand, entertained by the vague notion of the mariana trench etched between the shores of your Dead Sea and my Gulf of Eden