joey flack

Cushen of quicksand

I slump in my throne, set in the architecture of a falling star.

I remember moments,                                       I try to make them vague.

They configure and reciprocate with humanoid demeanor; heels of polyester plead in paradox.

A sliver of good times unribboned like a noose toying with my Vishuddha Chakra.

Vortex of memories;                                                  instability of fun.

I can still anticipate a plunger full of life               in the areas I remain vague to myself.

Dilapidated kingdom, how the struggle is to remind myself                                                       to always forget you.

An orange too bright

 

Frustrated I get with the wrestle

I do with what’s behind our orbit.

Try it does to tutor your traits

off and away from my sojourn.

 

I need the nectarine slices again;

juiceless, my hand feels serration.

Bloodless, my pallor feels mixable.

Apple burrow caterpillar she remains,

a chrysalis the Sun kissed to crispness.