orgami's Diaryland Diary

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d e c a n t e

swim in motion
the shot from the hips
from a hot lip
words of bright
flicked burn
to scaled
the scald wounds
from cauldrons
of whichs
wheres
and the wolves
running through
the extolerable rush
of night

pressing its hot
muzzle against
the steam
of glass

crass
flippant
trudge
grudge

I do my best thinking
alone
i dream best
with no one home
the calamity
of calm
falling soft
as shadows
down the curtians
just before dawn

7:38 p.m. - 2014-11-16

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