fringe selvedges

A painful way to die
Belies
Needful production
In stellar skies.

A purposeless try
Denies
Needful reflection
In painful eyes.

i hate to be the teller
of wicked bad news
but your sure to discover
your the target of
my ruse.

synthetic reactions
to imaginary fate
is a reflection of progress
in modern times of pure hate.

Tailor made talents
often interrupt
a silent rejoinder
of what’s not nearly enough.

Dark shifted eyes
Roll softly beside
This sickle trick wonder
Of a woman with pride.

Tickle dark lashes
Dressed down but with style
Makes the trickle of lust
Come alive with denial.

We are beings
Of gravity.

Unleash the strings
Of gravity
Upon the human
Condition:
And time
Will stop.

In the silky dark light
Her eyes beam, digging deep,
Appraising its target.

Wondering aloud how to approach,
How to determine the moments to
Cast into the dark; searching.

In the soulless time of indecision
Looks speak in high pitches
Of stress and emotion.

His glare of requisite fright
Belies a hope for his dream
Not to shatter, quick and sharp.

The moments of penetration
Bring forth both character and
Constitution of what makes us human.

Consistent allowance for success
And failure seem to move over,
Thick with positive moisture.

Where fears have now subsided
The mysteries of miracles now
Spring and grow fonder, day by day.

Humanity
And the human animal
In principle
Derive energy
From the nobility
Of a like Agamemnon
Themselves seen solely
As giants
Of human kind.

A natural beauty
In a the glare that shines
In unselfish honor
In unvarnished rapture
And with the courage to do
That which has the hardest
And most deep consequences
For failure.

Eclectic questions
Of why
Resurrect a visions
To try.

Enduring options
Abide and
Redirect deep currents
To die.