Lake Sighed
The mud scratches illuminate the
Tired sheens of parallel crossings and purple trees.
The last waves seem to be the noisiest, while,
Another can wait continually to trouble foam.
The wet rocks have more character,
The dull rocks certainly look stoned.
Where are you going? Are you as lost as me?
Blue ideals soundly remind
Just how fast to think.
Don't look triumphantly at me.
Not even half of what you see is where I
Fall and breakdown.
Bring returned graves and keep track of what I promise.
One more breakdown, and
I'll be as good as new.
How about you?
Failing always gets me to where I need to be.
Especially for tomorrow.
Do you remember what you said in my sleep?
Well, there the wind has invisible issues.
Maybe this whole conflict is unforgivingly fucked.
Where do waves plan to go, once cummed ashore?
Stupid waves look actively bored.
Right on, an amazing day for sight-dreaming.
These grounds seperate fate from fiction.
Christ, look at her! Nature's finest work!
Give me your name, but,
In return, remember mine.
Who invited clarity?
This woman lying there with that book is pretty.
Why is she alone? She even reads.
I wonder if she can think, too.
Damn outgoing shyness.
I look at her lying in the sun and know
That this lie will not get much more appealing
Than this spectacle of her golden tones.
So much to share, yet,
So much lonliness to catch up on.
But, her image forlays a thousand words, such as
Beautifocity, Marvelful, and Sexulating.
I wonder how long she'll decorate my left corner.
We could spend sunrays from a daydream on
Personalities...and be the best at us.
