02 Portuguese Teas

Fawn says butter

for my biscuit no Poe row.

Pain in the flame

the fly imagination.

Discovery demands choice.

V for voice. Strangers make rangers.

Peace garden peace!

Ardors for its beauty

where bitter sorrows

sacred check caught a neck.

For horrors, silver and dark,

stuffed with feathers

a slow honey bark.

Raids where played

in winds wept peaks.

Lets death too whisper

its wild and dredge from any edge —

its freedom for a ledge?

Listen we interrupt.

Unfold unfold mutant and bold

with freedoms prejudice.

When blinks a honey bear

sweetness always a tear?

always a dare —

Burns like sunshine

into perfidity —

lets fall in love.

Marry your order. Meets at the border.

Oh — nothing

there is nothing,

there is nothing but everything —

inherited, for your

pending spending time with me.

Mysterious indelible questioning

yes, no. Sun and fish.

How inclements spike

the skies

and its violence breathes

a mysterious elegance

into its love, death —

and drive.