As I Lay Before You.

I’ve laid before you, darkness all I’ve mapped, all alone,
Those little taps, and the enlightenment of voice from birth
Intrigue the remembrance of once I had,
And all I held, and all I’ve left and sought,
And loved, I’ve loved! The cruelty of son,
Told that the son branched take on this

As I’ve Forgotten Between the Wind.

Like soil with collective stems of a crooked rock
That brushed your fingers, all dampened,
That a mother would tell you to wash up,
Hurry on; but as I’ve remembered,
An olden, washed face, only ashen in lengths,
As I’ve forgotten time in between tonight,
And the best the day had hummed
The song of the copious endorphin springs

Must I Un-Wish?

The son of lands, and lands amazed,
That sheer a composition, in the fair hands,
Of Mendelssohn that grown from the stems,
And tendrils, furtive maelstrom in sound,
And bearing without a formal syntax

Natural.

My dear! Enwrapped around,
Senses displayed—I had thought the reality,
The drought and rings of nymphs,
And I, and I so foolishly pestered,
Thatched by those dead, those pranced,
At the sight of the endless bloom,
And I have remained in my quiet room.

Thank You.

I hear the rattling, the ticking, and my Grandfather’s tinnitus (perhaps not),
All the unheard aspects now, so therefore make a wish,
Just one, and only one. For the evening had already set,
As I waited for you—(and I near turned) all the timbre from your state, I sat down,
Drank a cup of water, and I fluttered all over to make that very call.
That tone, the sight of perception, not dozing on Winter’s fracture,
That slung branch gone and lost, dying in a day

Once Born.

There the death of the red, there the death of the wind,
And here is a, nonetheless, word spoken,
By the life it feels and here is life.