Best Arpeggio Poems

Sometime,
Your feet in the mud,
Several hours left,
What is the echo of each step

We need to stop, take a look,
What we have seen is strange
In the way that we travel.
I branched out, I open myself to the dark
And the bright. First my form,
seen and known.

Nothing prepares...

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such

succulent

trauma

spits

in

the

face

(when the beat is laid quickly the myth is erased)

when the colors bleed slowly

(when the adhesion it takes)

when the bells they ring sweetly

(when the pigs turn to snakes)

such

sacrosanct

sapphires

sparkling

in

the

silver

rain

(when the oil slicks echo visually the pain)

when the electricity flickers

(when the audio is turned down but the...

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