You bring it as blemished beauty;
a zealous zephyr of technology
announcing artificial attitudes
of sunny sided semantics.
However,
I read through your sadistic salutes,
then translate the cremains
of charcoal and carbon,
into captivated chaos
and carnal calamities.
Here I stand
with fiddling fingers,
still masturbating memories
from my patchwork playground.
Natural navigations
turn into this robotic reality -
your luscious laughter trumps
like leather lashings,
reaping industrial ideas
of your fruitful fascination
and tactical tilling.
With textile thoughts,
I paint myself crayola canyons
and butterfly bouquets;
My dreams drain comfort
from nature's crescent craters,
then create a phenomenal phantasm
of yesteryear
But still,
these creamed creations
are just the mirrored mirage
of fickle foundations
and communicative errors.
I don't belong
to your collared collective,
and yet,
you're still fiercely feigning
this elysian utopia.
Adding your comment:
and so you do it again... blow my mind with your excellent use of the language! You've left a lot here to percieve... though I only took a moment to percieve the image here... it only took that long to creep me out and think someone was trying to pinch out my heart and brains! 
s and best wishes always... ~Genie~
I have nothing else to say, but that. Oh and this was AMAZING BEYOND ALL REASON!!! 
Tori
Thank you sweety 
*shrugs*
