one quarter of a half.
the prancing mule
spoons sherbert from
the bright side of my loins.
his silver coins testosterone
message me a sentence
from Otello\'s chard,
gold bullion of charm
a ghost of something past
the never-ending cyclone in a jar.
it his here I pace the walls
lace the boots of butterflies
coin each phrase
through verse of collagen.
clean and genuine
a genie with three wishes
for my eyes.
rustle me a paddle boat.
one quarter of a half
my coast is clear.
what tomorrow is,
tomorrow is.
I guess;