It’s like a response

attuned to the rhythms of discord and unsweetness,

discarnate, lonely child.

I cadaver at least 6 things that I could say right now…

The great neo-black butterfly slips through my wings

The knife is penetrating flesh that doesn’t exist

It is a lonely little girl

She wants everything that makes her sick and tired and uncomfortable(To say the least)

Yet the flesh that exists is shining and illuminating without grain of awkwardness or pain or suffering

She wilt persist on, as wilt I.

Woe,

Oh…

Sweet Daughter of thine

Neo-black beautiful unparalleled world of genuine

Shining word and soft light purple rose or tongue

The secrets you could share…

The kindred face and place that I won’t stare

The touch of a rusty nail, puncturing my holy suggestion to thyself

Wilt it burn in the catacombs of sweet hellish rapture?

Wilt it be seduced to

This enchanted fading stain

For so long know I have known all the only neo-black truths of this universe and

This alphabet

Of false desire

Wilt you know the only agony in your palm begotten the

Un-shy happenstance of never knowing you and I?

The black mirror murmurs this joke of a lullaby

The black mirror whispers this kind of love that is sort of like,

A crushing hieroglyph

Un-evil Incarnate

The un-passion I find is this wedding of beryl feelings

The great work

It’s anatomy of serendipity in it’s own virgin of shadow

Jynx

Can you see it now?

Do you hear it now?

Do you find the time to speak with itself now?

It is filled with myriad miracles, and it’s butterflies tremble

Et Quake in me, in thee

How could I ever be if I was without thee?

Sick black tormented haunting zodiac of innocence

And shining twin un-tortured smile

The way out is to be and perish to thee

The lucid memory of our spectral wrath,

Wilt It take the trembling atom

Wilt it sing of sacrilegious screams so sacred and yearning

The black mirror of longing I find

Is without this fragile little dim-lit lit frozen empire

Of touches that sting like the heart is gaping wounds that suffer in it’s own needle breath of untrembling aught

And unkindrid kind

This little rain drop

Is wet

And unbalanced

The yielding of this paramount danger

For this quilt of un-speak in the quivers of thine skeleton

The wrought of death is nothing new

For this word and fable I can hardly bid adieu

Take this scarlet penetration of thine only visceral eye

Helpless, this havok of repeating un-harmony

I wilt gesture there

This neo-dark cell

I wilt plant inside of the everything you kept near

The only thing you held dear

This neo-shade melt an iris

I wilt pierce at the hymn of thine lips

The only sorrow, draconian timber like shadow tomes of dancing zephyr’s alight

at noon and midnight

The girl wakes

And incandescent poem

Is alight in the eves of thine dragon-fly

Red rose

Red rose

Do you have what you only know?

Does blood come easy where time sows?

Does royal anniversary and harrowing requiems that paint

like gentleness massage the tenderness in your neo-blood of shadow so special and safe?

Someone to come undone or one to

Someone to have no fun to

Hope and open orchard of lidless walls and little

Black, oh new little unfurnished rumblings and meanderings of black that reach the miles in the underworlds of her finest hour

She, oh she I tremble the same

Wilt I the only one I can

Without a name?

Wane

You black knave

Shade-speak, Shadow-split and soar,

Dark loom and weave

Black Benedictus, sacred secret

Soon

You and I hath felt our semblance or ceremony

It twists and curls the ancient sound the same

The same

Like enchanted neo-black prism

The palm of her hand…

Black pinwheels blown in happenstance

Our child in the dew of horror that nimble

Calling

Twin black such of leer or

Gaze

The awakened tragedy

The shade cathedral of my very precious own daughter

It is more then wood

It is more then the limber or lithe new black quivers in my secret mistress tongue

Is it honest for you

When the form of love scare sooths the shadows in the stitches of still with anatomy intact

Her woe Aegis

I am the un-serenity of this severity which slithers and shines like burning black kaleidoscope

un-suffer

Her softness in the cruel agile or haunting waking black mirrors seed of Monday,

Black September wakes

The harlequin pen I furnished from crow-quills in the sphere of innocence at it’s very harshness in my rune

I am wrought with this currency that is polished in the fates of un-filtered, un-withered astral blight

Our black quilt of laments

She I shade-speak

In the shivers of solemn allure

She I, And I She

The way

I learn

Take your hands in mine, daughter

Your flesh is the molten black wilt I suffer for

Your black of blue loom is the pandora of warmth

We could take our shadow parasol and fly over the black ocean

The river

Our crossing

Daughter

I allure this un-nimble choir

For secrets I wilt crushingly always

Un-learn

Your name in the sparrows of shadow silk

Your name in the glowing claw that I passed or severed with

Your name in the frenzied specter I fade in

It’s unholy rapture of neo-black hieroglyphs

Un-writhe in the new shadow of a cloud

The passage I have come to burn and keep

this vitality of our only nervous black warmth, purring happenstance like the black hollow in her I sleep

I carve the one I lit,

I safely assume this

little kin

Your kindred tongue is the un-sin of the shadow of the empress

I let in…

Your warm little shades of black orchestral petals

swimming in the awakened dark

The natural way I find, to un-keep us apart

The admonishing pyre in the hollo-grams of dew

I slaughter the only jewel of black I knew

As the earth

The one that untold or told thee

or you

Violence is the dark wood I muse and speak

With this black happenstance of me and you

Can the devil ever never tell the what to do?

Within this angelic death, I scry in the runes of what I sew

Daughter of the infernal whispering jewel that is the sacred black name I carved out of

Soon,

Her neo-black iris,

Nothing new

Just wrought of fiction and the words you do,

you do

Silly, silly you

Now you know everything about the way I wilt amuse

Meet me at heavens crossing

The only place to where I wilt

And stole you

This shivering black tongues feelings art thou wavering

Shemanu

Shemali

Xhema

Nazhiun Seraph

Shemadraos

Hira Heros

May I burn the wake of your only sick ghost

The only black little letters I sent at thou unthee that unhath atoned

Unwrite is what little I stole

You speak the prisms of what I can ignore

The black mirror is trembling

It is the time of your death

Your moment is spent

Her shades stillness or silence savors havoc in the neo-illumination of sense furor and happenstance

Send the brutal vastness of time and vision

To the awful black pyramid

where the twin acacia arrow fends it’s climax

The Sin, The Sin Shadow

Is hexed and vexed with the awakened myriad miracle torture maiden

And her shade silk, it suffers the black razor sky lit lingering of that harm that is un-being

Un-sight, Un-feel, un-sense

Un-clarity

I know I wilt walk the path of eternal neo-black star crossed lovers

Neo-woe vigils of contortionism

That hinder me no further

The neo-dark cathedral and neo-black eucharist is my walking grace

It is my great black rapturous being

There is no power in your unwavering thoughts of dimly-lit passions and mask play

The cardinal neo-black force is like an almighty hand that

Purifies thee, the points of time and space art thou all devoured by my daughters of neo-light and neo-shade

Come at me

Come at thee

The death of the dark in the dark wilt embers for the soft or sweet wetness of the black sun

It’s home is like soft un-summer shadows of shining black Phaedra or cupid

In the rules or ides of thatches us lucid

Let her black fingertips tap the windows there

Let us find the only jilt or tear

New little, holy cross black

That measures the ounce of your vast

That ire that cataclysmic mirror or black frenzy