06 Jan




stolen kings

golden rage

frisked in the hallway


yet, somewhere in America a cross is still burning

but we’re just drinking coffee here, talking important issues

exporting them from updates found on smart phones

growing gravestones

as vital to the deck as a five of diamonds

too many guarded mines to bleed through

and now come the missionaries

and I try to hide inside your lips

that’s what I want, what I need

just find me in another state

just find me in another state

I’ll make a new country out of it, just for us

I dreamt of you naked in front of me last night

even though it’s been three years since I’ve seen your body like this

but I kept forcing sleep until it came

and missing you has become like trying to pause a dream

in the sleep of a parasomniac

trying to rewind you to the beginning

or another sweet spot along the glimmer

and since I can no longer speak to you like this while I’m awake

pretend that this is my somniloquy


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Jack Tsoy Tumult

Morose Pontifications and Other Poetic Ramblings

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