BABYLON
12.30.17
you will be the last lady of the year
how does it feel to be tarnished
unpolished used metals
grinding against the surface
how long did you have to hold your cheecks
high
before pretend softness felt
smoother?
you fool no one
i wonder if you fool yourself.
if this world is smoke and mirrors
we are perfectly in sync
rushing to caress the the other’s plumes
watching rabbits soak up the trustuing.

11.18.17
BABYLON
i’ve seen you die in bed-sheets
strangled by the beast of apathy
yours is soft as your pi
lgramage to turn a blind eye
and look self reflection deep in the face of
not too deep.
perhaps rationality will suffice
too soothe and lull it back
away

still – there’s depth to the curves of your
intentions are clouded by pressures
i will have whats left over, and make it
yours too.