March 8 by The Running Son
a trust deconstruct
jesus the over
-adjustment of your too wide eyes.
you wouldn’t otherwise catch it
save by surprise
as it happens in glances so rapid
by eyes squeezed to smiles. meanwhile
bloodritualmyan and i see eyes rolling
still somehow seamless; you’re zion
and’ve rendered all I mean meaning
-less, you pile on
in intensity, i adjust
ten paces into my pleasesaveme space
what you meant to me is dead now
in the hyperliving movement of your
too blue graces
and all too few true faces.
by Jim Aldrich (:
.namaste. -• ö.tH(ink)Mÿstiç •- .namaste.