Icy, vanilla, creme de la crem deluxe
laced In ruby fire cinnamon, candied poison...
Ancient cries
still floating between things...
I miss the fog of your room.
the morning madness...
Finca Magdalena grown
beans roasted fresh pick'd...
I will see this through
because the idea of you still shocks my spine...
The pup of Peanut, Butter is her name.
I did not raise her, she loves me the same...
She and I,
hold a thousand...
In glowering
wind, by rusty swings...
December must be tired
of being called upon, of being...
They can't feel me and they don't know me.
They allure and detract but only slightly...
Extra extra read all about me:
I cast my not-knowingness...
I can tell by the slump of my words
that they're tired of standing in this imagery...