Remit the cognition

Sometimes I stop and think among the chaff and weed,

and cease to define the distance between us.

The bitter touch held in salty air,

preserving my own self-depricating ways.

Ethereal until the sphinx lays waste of you and I.

Somehow time and space do conspire to withold,

to fission the fussion.

Tournique's truth to uphold in a stanza such as this.

To be your regicide, my suicide.

Truer still is the feather that fails to fear

the allure of the deep crush of the iris.

Yet in creeping, my gait is shaky, run steady

but weaning will

Reviews

[Jonhoi Vaughn]

You make abstract beautiful. I cannot thank you enough for being another source of inspiration. Wicked alliterations by the way. Keep it up and you could be the next Martin Carter!

[Jason Henry]

well at least u think you still got a shot...
i wonder if anyone else who reads your stuff gets it. i get it cause i have firsthand experience with it...hmmm...great work nevertheless