You mystify me…by using mist to guide me…to your kiss - align me -
- tell me you miss the high me - for my sobriety is slimy…
...the diamonds in my pentagram are shiny…
...the pendulum swaying above my skull is tiny - luckily -
-I trustfully accompany the company encompassing my fuckery -
- Instructing me to structurally cluster all the luster from my custard
compulsorily - unfortunately - the fortune I’ll leave will be torturously
unimportant to thee - In the morning I’ll pee…pissing away my mourning
with tea - Permanently - Foiling the tinfoil coiling around my toiling mind
...preventing it from morally enjoying encounters with abnormal royals
of the other-worldy kind - The inside of my skin is lined…
...artistically designed with refined rind left behind on sticky charcuterie
boards and bottles of unfinished red and white wine -
-I cannot hypnotize you- I solely wish to crystallize you…
...kiss your lips with chocolate chips until your soul is caramelized through.
Somewhere along the long way, I met a song dog on an acoustic space rock
...for so long going down the wrong way, the faint growling and howling
guided me back to earth…your misty kiss…and my fuzzy gray socks.
About the Creator
Kale Sinclair
Author | Poet | Husband | Dog Dad | Nerd | Zen Practitioner
Find my published poetry, and short story books here!
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