Tripling

Alpha

Cry sweet tears of mercy as I kiss you.
Temper your love with steel for I will miss you.
And bind your sorrows into loving wool, ruddy with delight.

Temperate your desires.
Extinguish misanthropy.
Replace it with blasphemy.

Cry sweet tears of mercy as I hold you in my arms.
For I am not one of him, but merely the languishing lustful shadow of a former desire.
I wish I knew you out of place for but a moment of gratification.
I call thee Sweet Salvation of my own template.

Tempering my emptiness with fuel of dreams.
I wed the reality to the seams that bring down knitted wool of blasphemy.
I weep for thee.

B

I wish I could sow you to a kite.
A banner of our hope; a noose’s rope.
To ride round sweet Grecian sky of ancient wants (such dead philosophical haunts).

I guide myself true these wisps.
I move myself through your frisks (and hope my retribution).
What silent dreams (unseems) the kite’s screams drowned in lying wool.

Crying sweet tears of mercy as I hold you in my arms.
My antipathy creates this space between us.
I dream of woollen feats of Your Heights.

What frightens me is why I am dreaming?
When she is you is I (to reconcile). Crying through pronouns (to beguile).
Defeated no names of merciless grammar.

Breaking down your seams of retributing grace: my codifying ace.
When I, for you are writing this, come as your own disgrace.
Crumbling into smithereens.

Or so language seems?
In self-construction it semens.
One

I break the ledge
Throw the rope.
And plunge.

I speak.
Nope.
I lunge.

Crying,
Shying,
Trying.

Break, stake; shake it up.

Take the stuff.
Blind man’s bluff.

Of ever seeming rhyme tripping through time.
In extentatious journeys of dreaming seamening all over your rage
In lost extentions on the page.
Through thoughts of night.
And ever-writing S-H-I-T-E
Swimming dreams of everless unseems.

Gdowna deep