Got my southwest ticket and im off to the moon. In search of the one that left earth to soon. They told me she’s gone but not where she went. So I tell them I’ll search till my energy’s spent. They look at me strange and I don’t understand. They say nana went off to an unreachable land. What do you mean? where did she go? Tell me now! Its important I know! With a long heavy sigh and a scratch on the head they tell me heaven’s the location of nana’s new bed. Locked in my room with only the sound of weeping. Growing so tired it turns into sleeping. I wake the next morning smile on my face. During my sleep I saw nana’s new place. Seeing her again was a remarkable sight. So let me ask you, have you ever been to heaven at night?
For the dream slaves the incense has become a moon for the alchemic effect of tear’s stain in erotic war. Ask a mooner, will he bring her to bed for a song to measure the cantus between flight of strings
Put off the lantern. I am waiting for the moon’s primal face. The lesser flamingoes were going to shed the pink color. Nude as a python, the kiss of pomegranates, kills by asphyxiation. I suffer in the hands of protests.
It was night sin of domesticity. Dyed, I am loading the white secret of pain in the hollow of a mayhem. Till every blunder takes a downward flight striping the outsized image of a kill. His flames are now singeing