five things are all i can mutter when
ten are required.
finding me is a riddle meant to be loved
although no one deduces my eyes. look
closely, closer and his hair cuts open; it
exfoliates like an onion.
everyday has been taken care
and already, my time has come. no one thinks i listen like a boa
remembering each implicit fear.
nearing my mouth, the desert lips
own my face and my ear like foreclosed estate. my skin
shouts the pulling words and the oarsmen at my brow
ebb like crying tides, but the ocean
home. dive in
or be pushed.
underneath, i am the arms of
light bubbling to your ear. listen, you ask?
darkest days imply only light and
events do not occur as coincidences like elbows that rub.
respire and believe.
hints grow on my shoulders
in the blizzard of spring while
pi is a constant in which
all squares go around and round.
lest you rationalize,
embrace your thickest thighs.
good is relative to words people
say, though it cramps and cramps.
freedom is an enslaving engima
existant without limits. there
exists your face, ear, nose, shoulders, hips, legs and
toes and so too will you.