Que Nada?

How hard you are to ignore, let go
A taste that lingers; soursop tinted tip of tongue
A place, golden palace in the brain
Warm afterglow with the visual image
Bright faces of familiars look younger every day
I picture laugh and teeth mutely spreading
Good past washes me
Cleanse my scourge
Rotted roots come bleached anew
Social graces in cold tea rooms
Rooted to the floor of dwelling basement dwells
Shock to move but yearn to run
Escape from so be bore
Run to hope and illusions
Crystal mirror shiny shine the temptation
Pulls of abyss
Drag me clicking and screaming into night rare dreamweaves circling horned crowns of own doings and beings. Martyr complexities and victim mentality, abnormality fatality scrape my knees when pleading please. Mortals be fighting, my breath slips and tightens, I chop at exhales to gather when waiting.

Odelaly Odelai? Cake or Beck? Taxis taxing me money deplete while stomach replete. Fools rush to gold and empty payment and parachutes, moolah accounts minor and stinted like dwarven magic disappear it. Wisps light the way in smoky blue tunnels encased in oily slick walls bearing cavernous moans of ancient sacrifices. Supplant bones for tones and wailing weather dampens the tunnelers, grafted to mud glowing brilliant white blue spirituals. Icicle steam. Grey patterns enrapturing cigar smoke hues, moody spaces inhabit air patches with the cool blue burn of Hades scorchers. Reminiscent of old curses but relate to youth with Doritos Cool Ranch and Dentyne Ice.

Sodded sodium products laced with penetrating particles to sap the spirit from fresh lime faces dewy with tears hope faithful. Ripa ripe juices to fuel clockwork citrus. Shock block shell cocks romping ruined streets to shuffle massive milk into duds in sueded coats and good graces. Succor for sycophantic fops, reeking of untold wantonness and ancestral wigs donning lustreless chaps with little prigs. Rich boy mannerly mans the rising tied of poverty prison, break, out of mold out of body out of body politic.

Run little daisies. A dare a dare. Swimming Georgia peach slice for Reubins tickled pink. Death from above, dead like me, white like me, Wise like me humbly. Influence swirls in creamy dish feed…

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