BSINH

[tectak]

Sold up, sandled, left myself to die by three degrees
above absolution. What the hell...we are all hot angels;
one ear whistles, one ear rings. In my shell...ocean.
Shit, I fondle like I'm painting the fuckin' fence.
White. White.

Hi sister. How come I can see you when I'm invisible?
She folds. I smell her whole day on one long pull...
lips are mixed with legs that talk in runs. What?
Mean knees but interesting vanishing point.
You talk. You Talk.

Carry this shell, it's been my home since the godamn snail
left in a rush. They do that, but why argue with me?
I trail silver everywhere, so the truth is out there...hello.
Follow the sand-hoppers into the weed, laughing.
Funny. Funny.

Nearer but blurred against the red-light,
steel-shite, pig-night, glow-hot, cast-blast sky.
Ironworks are sleep-walking along the sand.
Base metal. Base metal.

Not her...didn't I tell you?
Her insides were gold and slipped by offers,
frankincense folded money into heads full;
no words came. No words came.

She gave a sign; two arrows split above her head,
one mine. I tried to tell her I was already hit upon
but we died like targets of pierced apples.

Shame, she could have vomited that hit...
I was ready. Always.

tectak1969...I think. Sleeping rougher.

[ellajam]

I fondle like I'm painting the fuckin' fence.

Funny. Funny.

There's something in this also:

She gave a sign; two arrows split above her head,
one mine. I tried to tell her I was already hit upon
but we died like targets of split apples.

You have potential, young man.
Keep writing.