“Masked Moments”

17 Oct

“Masked Moments”

Guess the day to finally go away

has cultivated and promised you

to painted carnations

another road of disuse

crayon angels and cutting

pieces of the rug where the experience

blood outlines, fists of fur

handfuls of the youthful flowers

only a beast could view

money is the only thing that matters

you’re in a doll’s clothes

but it won’t buy you the spirit to slake

the syrup of the hammock, unfold

cold nights, strong shoulders,

to have to make a business

underneath the spitting ham,

closed-eyed starlets, eerily stiff

and sniff of you, those velvet scents

pouring through a heated vent

triplicate in kisses, hosiery hands

masked bandits, raccoon souls,

paired with the pain of novelty:

summer winks skip seasons,

whatever paints in pants drew you.

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