The outer circumferential visage
Of isles laden with iridescent ores
Stained in champagnes and marines
In glimmering idiosyncratic meanderings
Surrounding nitrogenous asphyxiations
Of igneous deposits bent in silicon sheens
In plausible replications; seditiously contoured
Altercations met in disfigured capabilities
Exchanged in electronic measures whittled in biases.
Unraveling fates in magicks or in numbers
Within fabrications once anointed: reviled.
Unable to cast vapours, sans-senses,
Of the catalyst and its manifestations
Absolving it as wishful resonances.
Buildings by placing
Brick by brick patterns
Of cemented lined spaces
Of fate in action;
Catalysts and pathways
In purposefully moving
In subjective motions
Of duty and justice
On self injected
A portion of me probes
Your unsatiated intent,
Searching for the reasons
Of such quick witted descent.
Wouldn’t the forthcoming
Of ceaseless gratuitous surges
Cause one to remain motionless.
Would you really have simply left,
Without having wet your hunger
With the form that you swore you adored,
Without listening to the heralded echoes
Designed to inflate your already inflated ego.
I ponder how you’d leave,
Lover of art, truth, love, and grief,
With your curiosity piqued,
Without having heard your unsung worship,
Without having read your exalted narrative.
Was it because
I don’t know enough.
Was it really love
That you desired
Or didst thou merely seek
To see thyself donned in glory.
The lies you spelled
Of how Love was the answer,
Away from me.
We built walls
Along the borders
To safe guard
We stored in our hearts.
But you came
Lacking physical properties,
Waltzed right through
Cemented auburn bricks.
With body bare,
With the breeze
We’d watch you dance.
You tossed words,
Petals, from your basket,
In atmospheric pressure,
“Watch my prophecies unfurl”
You came in
“You aren’t welcome here,”
Take your destinies
And go somewhere else.
You and your rhetoric divination’s
Can go to hell.
Fuck this shit.
This isn’t real.