Idiolect in ♠ Martyrs And Bosom

Seal Rocks from Cliff House before sunrise

Image via Wikipedia

Fiery Ice and Combustible ash
plethoras of microscopic cells ▬
languish eyes and crouched spine
behavioural larynx in plateau |
legged snakes and winged ostriches
round and round the iris moves
marvel at marble buildings
that defy domino piles
and a garden of weeds with ourselves to volt
and plough and harvest into roses
objectify your own-self and subjectify the flesh

We are both young and old as things can go
Watches and clocks grow
into spiral like tendrils-climbers
and linear in a circular fold
the sepia innocence
the colour innocence
meshed with violent colour
and jagged papery brown

what I have in=depth and surface
is in its own library
lexicography under my eyes and tongue ▬
nose and skin ▬
larynx and bloody tissue
your brain is a planet
and so it dances on a axis of words
▬ visionary landscapes combine
▬ into a foetus
▬ an embryo
▬ a post-natal body in prose

like wise whispers in the archways of doors
▬ and nature
▬ and trees|
▬ and homes not urbanized into seclusives

my weathered tongue ▬ is it withered?
is it like earth or stone ▬ water or blood?
and my brain and heart ▬ ribcage and limbs
are they just compasses or sails too?

▬ I awoke and altered a million times
▬ those molecules may have something strung or somewhere spaced

like monogamous things I am varied
like polygamous things I am single

and all the ethers and clouds I had eaten

has made a round ball in my eyes sharp to pick up sound. ▬

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