You are a loose arrow
launched from...

July has arrived with heated
winds and cheery...

Forsaken catacombs of esoteric allusions
lay neatly tucked behind my...

My fingers yearn for a time
when they penned...

Each shallow breath that
sneaks past my lips...

I thought you were my feeble
knees...

All of this gravel I'm eating keeps
chipping my teeth...

Somewhere amongst the straight
lines and right angles...

Take my pen;
I have no need for empty words...

Your name still picks holes
between my ribs...

I've constructed a fortress made
entirely of mirrors and misdirection...

The relativity
of each embrace and...