the calendar told us to bloom every year
do you ever feel like you are writing the same poem over and over
how you can fall in love over in over
adjacent to the garden a feather
adjacent
undressing windows
existing armatures talking about high school ap physics
tell me what people want to hear
tell me what to write
fuck my poem over and over again
covered new rape of human
blown boiled dove beats without sex in a fiery fit
decompressing silent sly transgressed plots of love
the distance is one of play
my sex
I cry because you dont care to remember this:
Im all for dreams as long as they are not pathological monster memes
.
