Creak Chronicle

Nails obscure
Posters of tongue althrough
Black of bubbles

For pain for a methane devoid of shades and
Sound frivolous
Skindrop crystals can turn into spinal
Salt

Let's acquire stray moths on our shirt
Neons of sweat aloud
Anatomy totems all around my existence
Burning like hell....

Wrapped Up With Immense Midnight Repulsion

I gurgle with infringed colours,
Vowels of a shadowed pair of shoes..
My specs are getting old,my skin is zero for zero is mirror
Broken like a dangling staircase …
Gods of wicked penis moving in a chain
I keep on riding,riding for the jack,johon,brownboard jazz
I feel my nails are gone,teeth as well..
So as my skin,bones,hairs…
Father,shout I shout and zero numberless
To see from a crackling locus
I feel death is nothing for a man
Who can step ahead
Towards the bathroom for swimming ashes abundant....

Another vibrato..soundness I wish

Skinshot

There’s all skins are fluttering

I’ve made a number-plate towards the alluring ashes

My thick bones … no calendars to call her name …
Bubbles of ceramic sounds

Her constellations on her arms,
Moles and membranes on my shirt

As I’ve left the anatomy wool
And papers flying flying through the dark

All dodos are with me on a boat

Sunday dreams and a swirling hue
And the walking doors of a
Foul harpsichord

I’m a terrific ride with vanishing flakes and
Mosses…..