made up of this and that;
like a river through a vase
I bare no grudge to witness such a whyle
as happy as a carpet-bag
richer than the twisted limbs of tapestry and ice;
within these walls
waterfalls of brunette blood
locking horns my four walls of austere.
a pregnant sea\'s fine art of photographs.
intrusion much as media alike;
outside a great beyond
one world. one man. no other
no brother through the cycle of the heir
to push beyond a boundary upheld.
a mother-load of cliches
as idle as I am beyond compare;
my terracotta bed of introvert
pepper-green. heavier than air
I dream with tangerine of Phaedra\'s love
kissing through uncertainty
one hundred shades of nuance
through a muzzled dialect.
made up of this and that
within these walls
too many nights
the silent one resides;