Humming Sound
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On the sunset porch, I spatter my breath.
Return the favor so that can fulfill my task.
I'm merely observing people passing through.
Continue speaking with sleazeball lips.
Remnants of alive memories.
Sing to amply demonstrate the dedication.
Thusly, overcome with the eager desire to sob.
I cleave to the pieces of dead maps you are grasping.
On the grounds that I entered the hole to steep it.
As well, mutiny spread in all banausic ways.
I'm crouching beneath the wishing arbor, as you can view.
My most fervent hopes are being warped in odd angles.
To the wondrous strains of a mournful tune.
My heart expresses a desire for raw skin.
In the folds of the reach, light candles of wonder.
My mind is brimming with gloomy shades.
Arrange for the upheaval of gray memory strands.
I applaud my post-injury morality.
And I recall this to the best of my cognitive ability.
That is all in a proper sense.
On saddle cushions, I slept properly.
I buried you on your own holy patch of land.
Nobody grasps me in this squandering.
Nobody compares to my image in mirrors.
Written: February 16, 2022
Copyright © Sotto Poet | Year Posted 2022
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