February 2020

I stained my fingers uncapping tubes of Winsor & Newton. It is Friday but I found the nudity of the canvas appealing. There were brushes untouched yet longing for my handling. I ignored them and went fingers first.

Life Unaccounted For

I would argue that age is an invalid counter,

That life unaccounted for be ignored,

I have stared into the abyss for too long now,

Avoiding life as mortals count it.

.

.

Finding you, attractive, youthful, being

Considering my age we are the same,

We are of age asimilar &

I am wanting

You.

.

.

But the counting of life moments does,

Unfortunately not consider my views,

So here we go, following the rules, of

Those who think they know it all.

.

.

Here I stand firm in my beliefs,

I am not older than my experiences,

I am not old behind this beard,

I am available,

For none to see

Darling, my dear / to ensure our mutual understanding / I need first to try and convey / the darkness that engulfed me / before we were finally set free / I accepted your loving embrace / with the face of a child wanting / pretending it was not my first encounter / as age did count in my favour / I accepted and reciprocated all that you gave / I found love in that moment however brief / there was fire in our hearts there and then / & in that fire I saw death burning

I speak through the eyes of the unborn child / the un-dithered / I find its purpose perplexing and yet very, very appealing / the un-dithering / I searched for millennia for truth everlasting / dithering / & now & here & everywhere, I walk in shades of unfathomness / pick your truth or I will choose it for you / the green eye / the two pronged crown / or I await you / as sure as sure as sure can be / we will await you at the end of your dream

Blue is death

Medically speaking

Your lips showing a hue

Resembling just that kind of blue

I could let go, releasing my grip apparent

Your neck strength weakening as continue

My strangling

As I consider buying you flowers, I wonder if you differentiate between petal and sepal, if there is a tepal in your vocabulary, if I matter more than these cut-off – these now-dying remnants of life

Orphaned / without a proper backstory / Alive / with their silent eyes following every movement / Fading / the flame once raging strong / Moulded / the death of a ghost poet

It is said by some that there are rules of engagement present in all form of combat & love / subsequent to that misconception I find a blank page spreading before my very eyes / there is a tub of ink in the corner and an unsigned check wallowing behind the curtains drawn ahalf / the future is somewhere out there waiting for the sleeping beauty that I am not / I am not her in truth but I once planned our wedding / like I once walked the halls of fortunes where now only scars are resting / a reminder of the torture / of my involvement in a life less ordinary / in truth / a life less than / a life less / a life / a … / … / a dotted remainder of what could have been / had I only understood the rules of the game

I should in light of our previous encounters act upon your solid & frank advice / to avoid her like the plague you say her being solely and firmly consists of / that morning light that greets me steadily behind the folding window blinds / each morning she appears to me in dreams and I find myself once more awake / her touch is poison to those exposed / bloodrayne / or so the story goes

You approach me,

wearing nothing but a tank top,

a grayish piece of cover-naught,

the kind of slutty outfit you know

will turn me on

//

You approach me,

carrying the sharpened knives,

they glisten in the candle light,

making my heart pound faster,

my chains could not be tighter

//

You approach me,

with the seductive smile of an

assassin, unaware of my awareness,

& my reluctance to the dying

process

//

You approach me,

in heels of steel,

excessive streaks of black

circling your tear filled

eyes

//

You approach me,

and I beg for your understanding,

for your mercy, knowing all to well,

I had this coming, this was all

On me

//

You approach me,

wearing nothing but a tank top,

Pouring the candle wax indifferently

Carving your name into my loins

& with a lustless moan I surrender

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