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 ^{(it's beta!)}

Life is only the least bit careless. My eye lids sleep. Your lips ripple under their flush of blood And were too tired to skip so we stumble. We stomp and mouth our whispers, stage whispers through the holes in ships, pyramids of ceder, treaded on like the waves knead our malleable skin palpable, temptations no longer temptations, no, not the tempest of the garden The feathered unkempt strands of fibers of the garden of eden drenched in plaque and scum and oil. Lapping at our feathers, our down in your hand like I dont know if your a good man. If your on my side or not and most likely, most likely will never be. Because What i fear, i fear that you are An opinionated boy. That you re-arrange your words and make formulas My formula junkie. I fear for you in the garden of edens hair. tentacles, coverded in debris, coveted by my own jealousy. I picked it up at sea like an ache in my own jealousy, Her tenderness, pacifying touch Delves into your sloshing soul with her tendrils and veins and teeth and that disheveled hair, evidence of A thousand oil spills, in her teeth in her bile and breath You hiccup in your last fit of pleasure galvanizing, you sputter out her nectar in adoration. Your city's new found feracity (we thought the ocean was empty) beconed you away and you left me to my frail, decayed goddess. She is mine, after all. You too, though the "fornication" was more idolatry, yet, no treason to the sea. After all, the sea is a copulating mass, capable of guiltless satiation. And you, You were just a foreign body embedded in the sovereign.