Nowed, Thened, and Nevered.

In leaving my dome,
I come to a view of things as fresh.
I wish and wander to yearn. For when was man alive,
but by dreams of truth
or its equivelant.

Upon leaving bed,
I come to the abrupt awake of knee-pain,
and oft wish to could walk again
my dreams.

Upon breathing,
I signed a contract for blood-money,
and will stomp it for its worth.

By letting,
A mirage of days and nows, I live in each one
‘till airless become,
let.

The moment
I thought of you I forgot your name and remembered
the color of that very first sundress
whose name was starch.

You fall to sleep
and giant to know-where,
Where we were weak
in solidarity.

When I stop to tie my shoe,
And you leave me a coatail behind,
I stay that way,
‘till death puts the carrige on me.