My writings have held
crooked verses recently...

There is a blaze
rumbling in my gut...

The sun fell through
the wires of a dream catcher...

Matador,
my horns...

Gangling tree tops roof the wood
Intertwining themselves from where we stood...

Your scent
is like a cigarette smoke film...

When the burning orange in the sky...
I feel an anxiousness creep in from the shadow of...

Transient high,
meet me at the skyline...

"Retreat within the mind evisioning
the place where your serenity resides...

Drive the thought in deeper, darling
my eyes'll be that caynon cliff...

Your love eats away at me from the inside out,
and picks it's teeth clean using my ribs...

He extracts the lust from my bones
to paint, to convey, each reason why...