abnormalities of conventional love letters

i believe in the devilish, the pure hearted, the pony-legged; my ill-bred brothers
patience over poverty of the mind, a youthful revelation discovered between cereal boxes
calming prismatic visions, painted mountainsides like burning mouths, devouring flora and fauna with curried leaves piling delicately.
i believe in the addition and subtraction of our roles, reversal, like a dogs turned stomach, funeral processions, our own birth on homely sheets.

strung up coffee cans, telephoned calumnies

turn down your limbs little taxi hawk
sharper tongue studied decanter eyes
the wet rusting furrowed brow
silk lipped distraught homeless kiss

un

love sick burnt pony
hoofless rider, humming bird brain
hello hello how missed your daisies will be

there are things i will never tell, because penning my own truth as opposed to letting others fawn over the possibilities of what could be, makes it all something so lifeless and real. what a contradiction

i believe in an existence with the sole purpose of surrounding ones self with beautiful things

birds of a feather