once more onto the cushion of your samphire breast

once more onto the cushion of your samphire breast

where the mountain seed

blessed the tormented tide of a raging sun

with a thoughtful grimace

mocking the fading memory of a dry clouds' fleeting glimpse

of a quatered eye on gods unshaven chin;

the hill where hibiscus flowers

shadowed my fruitless arms and cradled my mothers possessive feet

where once she crawled beneath the sandstorms muted heat

outlawed my wired jaw

and saw straight through my abandoned tungston fist;

it was the heavens teeth

with its' bracelet strangling my wrist

who witnessed the murder of my youth

paddled the waters of my halloween brain

and enhanced the chanceless ache of my buttocks bastard child;

the chordless chimes from a stigmatic plantains' voice

I had no choice

I either danced with the demons of the sea

or I grew old with the sadness of a willows whispered cry!

I have eyes for only what I see

on this land of blightly

with her ever so salted yet slightly altered disgruntled point of view

follow her trend?

or bend with her archbishops sword of a seasoned harvest storm?

mourn my death

draw breath from the wishbone of the blue whale wearing mink

sink and be gone

and blink no more

with the poisonous rant of an ants late morning climb.

mime within the diesel of my despair

part my hair

and chance your arm with my lethargic purple vein;













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