My Soul, You Flaked

Darling, you are anticipated amelioration

Sun drops of warmth on my sun dried skin

A collapsing pillar of contentment

We are heaven birthed and heavy struck by non-circumvented spaces, moved furniture pieces, and black laughter

Darling, you are anticipated asunder that glistens

It’s black and sticky in my muddled cognate

You are a digital creation of words like backspace

Pasted like intolerance

Darling, you can’t glue together my lemniscated lines

Frisson, you are frisson.

The colors of your actions are the questions I will never ask.

They stare, they chant, they fly

Darling, you are awestruck and awakening

Gold paint and a soul full of cimarron

You are inconsistent labor, like oscillating threads weaving together the mural of decomposition

I dare not purse my lips

I absorb the radiating sparks of visible sunlight

Like cliche hands ticking time

Flare, to glare.

You aren't the hand in mine

And forgiveness can’t be told by 9

Stars race like caterpillars darting by

Oh darling, you aren’t the hand in mine

Flaking risk to sooth your anxious soul

-AJ

Quick disturbance of pure darkness, the unknown, with affronts on the murky 

ineffectual surface by risk induced illumination. The greatest folly is to cling to 

safety, allow the inner child of your soul to romp as it once did eons ago 

streaking and gliding on Saturn’s rings. You are a millennia with incalculable 

decades of virtue that has incised itself on the table of God’s heart. You are habit 

and habit is automatic; you are expression, you are faith with seamless passion. 

You are grey, a matte grey with enticing red folds of meticulous nature. You are 

like the settled sea and the ever crashing tides how you draw in and suddenly 

push out, then with a subtle glance facilitate ones being. Your nature is risky, 

therefore your nature is not your own; fierce in its manner of escaping the 

banalities of safe seeking conformities. The soul is to be wild not captive. True 

existence is flaking risk to sooth your anxious soul.

Risky Business

Pieces worn to a blunt end of

And here we sit,

a long drink of closeness.

Helium filled wine that mocks the bedroom tiles.

You and I, we are loose versions of pin straight neck ties.

The present time dripping of paint splattered walls, a chorus of color.

Rendered souls basking in shallow light, and intoxicating prayers of sullen pride.

You and I, we were made to be apart, or is it a part?

And you and I, we were made to leave it alone.

And just like your humble tattoo,

My word vomit will scream loud enough, so that nothing comes out.

Throwing Fireballs at Expansion

You are a safe decision to stay awake, and jittering spikes of soul entanglements.  

Our hope carelessly resting on words from friends, leaving us with a corroded kismet.

They travel the back roads and tread like avalanches under our salacious peaks of self-containment.

You are keeping close to the railing.

A blasé muse that alerts me of how my dignity destroys design.

One step to the left and once again I am struck by pangs of priming and decaying moral myopia.

You are happen chance, and hands that form like graceful words of acceptance. Once, too far, and evermore we are guided by caveats of displacement.

You are a fleck of stardust on my golden paved highway, shining with pinpricking limpidity like another galactic atmosphere. But soon you disappear like time warp, and I find yet another version of my self to render with combustion.

I mitigate the rocks by residing in the water and I leave it all to semantic uncertainty.

We are the older versions of ourselves, and indefatigable children at play.

I perch on the highest ledge, and pear into the eyes of a lion, where no amount of fire can invade.

I am to you...

By Osorje Lang

I am to you the road untraveled, and gracefully bypassed with only faint glimmers of brief simmering hope. Your paths have been blazed through with such eloquent yet shy femininity that exudes off placed desire of passion and that air of your being drew me in like the perfect line of art with a flawless contrast.

Neglected and avoided with caution signs to detour me for newer and smoother surfaces of travel, I yet remain the offset of being an unfamiliar road contoured in a tarry body of ambiguity. With regards to a saccharine nostalgia I suddenly yet briefly felt a warmth charge through the lengths of my being. 

And then I too came closer,

However, I remained enthralled in the sweetness of that moment, totally engulfed with peek sensory and eyes wide shut viewing your frame and fragmented smile outlined with vivid red lipstick in my memories. 

But now remembering the coarse joke that fell from my lips, and you retorted “why do you have to bash me?”                                                                                                                                                                     

That was the last time you slept in my arms, it was only a faulty attempt at courting, and now I use 

the term courting as though suitable for what is now popular culture; I’ve yet to correct my faults.

Traveled many times by other curious motorist of life I have experienced erosion,    

even some travelers have traveled partially on me to whom I don’t know as friend or foe

Still you detour and follow more well-kept roads

Now I am sure to accept that only golden paved roads are the ones you know.

Reduced Uncertainty about Future Action

You were like my sore cheek,

From grimacing too hard in abstract denial of the unknown,

Such fear gripping the inner lining of the clouds.

And the wind,

Like a cluster of life scripts dangling from eye tears and sweetened attachments to reconciliation.

I was called, not into the blue haze of darkness
but into the hole of asunder.

With fragmented light sparks exclaiming their ever blinding presence in my ever captured mind.

You, swept in like a trickle down a rain gutter and watched from afar as my weary arms dripped parts of my heart,

melting sweltering drops of serendipity. 

And I came closer.

You took three shots of bravado and breathed in my returned reciprocity, willing to establish any boundary I came near with striking clarity. 

You listened as I laughed, full of bitter defilement and skin wrenching panic.
Watching still again as my face contorted into self-improvement and decayed attempts to redesign perfection.

Yet, I still came closer.

I replaced longevity with something even longer; perpetuation and soon you began to smile at me.

You are my road, and the only one I know.