Absolutely Miles Away …too many clouds, too little time…

furyless

once you rinsed puzzle from teased hair
to detect the remains of the faintest scent;
a misty city, stripteasing concrete.
dealing only in terms of tiny particles from
each whirr of the mind
your every breath laced with fantastical fibre
sucked from lung and pillowed expanse
longing to pepperdust landscape
in fume and fury,
blanketted.

inhale your own scent from these wisps
of smattered raindrops tearing on glass
but know that weather may never
hear the quake in your fingerprint
as they will.

hazed up downward

maybe you’ll lie
alarmed and white, undecided
while shadows of daylight lifelines
play xylophone concertos from the beyond
trying to find an echo of trouble
in amongst the landslipped rubble
as the hazy green fairy steals your currency
trade only in well-trodden dreams.
sleep soothing circles the arms of absynthia
come morning, this wormwood mist may rise.

too sticky : 3

not forgotten, but gone

the demons in the right now wish to petulantly be asked questions, question this, question that, question every snippet of solitary existence so they can try and work out what the answers contain.

it’s not enough to answer that you don’t know, to everything.