Pelt and chime the beauty of synchronicity.
Stand still for not a single second.
Shimmer and wave, destroy your home.
Stand still for not a single second.
In beauty lies compensation,
Sharpening his bundle of sticks into arrows laced with impulse.
A skim over cupid’s diary sickened by each entry.
Ink to blood, paper to flesh
and I am suspended in mid-air, frozen by intuition.
Pelt and chime.
Well rehearsed chaos gives me something to hum to.
