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New LeaF / Violent

crossing the stream one stone at a time one step by step one alignment

each stone another information every stone unturned lifts the stream to

rain again and setting foundations settling into the embankment of one

side of the stream til flooding again the dug trench soldiers on and on

crossing the stream one rock at a time one footfall by footfall one time

who was that round robin the third a concert i left mid collapse hay fever

red mask breathing in sweat monkey wrench i know he knows it but ill

forget forever like the band i wanted to look up like the opener of like

the person i just thought of and drifted by like a leaf drifts by in the stream

to then rising stones standing from the throne lifted footfalls on the rock

skipping thought crost the stream hits the leaf and it falls like it fell from

the tree itself deeper in but that was just the imagination of a question

to then further thought what was that first season and when it twas then

everything definition all things moving stop and allow all things flowing

go ever deeper into the tunnel to find strands of liquid gold connecting

star to star ever unto a falling constellation and all the stars fall at one and

exactly light the tether ancient feather writing itself in inky formula made

histories abundance dance and realities dream introverted narcissism is

just happenstance about the perspective of a promising romance love

i thought of it first and wrote is and the thing make decadence limitless

lovely loveliness beautiful beauty pitiful pit falls in the spring winters umber

promising to the least and accursed at best wishful thinking honest death

it could have been better and it is much worse than you thought and thinking

was once something about a thought and answering a question poised to be

asked asking at all the wrong times cracking the knuckles of the thumbprint

right fist wrinkled noose bliss in never ending lose another cup of coffee in

the morning time head ringing like bells a promise written on a sand grain

the last one in the hour glass first, new leaves, how to let a leaf drift by in the

stream without falling in love, sharper than a grass blade cuts, somehow

to you from us, I still wouldn't know the truth of what is a feeling, some ever

masking dance that lifts the broken hearted world and glues the pieces back

together again to then drop it by accident on purpose for quick sand fall in

love again? violent recognition of. all along a longing for someone or lust

and how to tell the difference, i wouldn't know, i failed my dissertation on it

speak in tongues lick it up lost in eyes caught thinking in two directions can

we walk barely crawling on hands & knees footings freeze in the winter time

pointing beneath tarps in the snow cement mixture colder hands steal the

pieces of the broken mess with a broomstick and seal the deal crushed dust

unto nothingness blown by lips from breath with smoke and mixes arising

constellations design it's the end of the world but i can't find what i'm looking

for what was i looking for anyway mirrored face breaking touch of the glove

for some reason the nostalgia last night led me back to the other movie theater

where we would go to meet different girls from different schools and walk

around and not see a movie and just walk laps for hours talking about what

i cant remember, i couldn't remember if i tried, and that's the secret of life

the secret of life is something only someone else knows and even if that

even if that person was you, it's not you anymore, even though it is and it

was and it will forever forever be something that was and continues to be-

come something and thats everything probably reality in a dream the dream

of hell is heaven to the dreamer the idea of heaven is hell to death and some-

where inbetween we stand poised and perched upon two stones in the stream

what was once thought to be, teeth, the two sharp fangs of the snake once

just once in the juggular vein when a little just isnt enough and enough is just

one more day i swear it's the last just one more written word thrown behind

the back over the shoulder like a stone thrown in the ocean of endeavor like

a skipping record like a broken leather strap whipping in the wind swept sand

pulling the ship in circles just for the goddamn sake of it it is the only way out

it is the truth without doubt of the desert dance round and round the circled

nothingness hands bled white face red masked being shrouded in black night

to sunrise, sun high, sky wrecked in devilish dripping abundance from hands

gripping the mask bleeding out sunlight to moonrise from blacknesses deepest

revelry to pale white skin licked rain fall from two hands gripping the frame

shaking the mirror lands the feather falling from the turn of the hourglass ever

round the lifting choreograpghy of fallen leaves and time's yellowing page

year after years chasing a name a number a dial tone a ringing like wedding bells

and pagan rites and histories flight sputtering out the child in the mask laughing

laughing at himself in the mirrored reflections glowing candle fixed flame some-

how does the candle melt yet always remains always and yet remains melting

my mom showed me her new shoes and they are not ugly, i would know because

she asked me and i gave my honest opinion, they're not ugly, but goddamn i am.

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