you haven't spoken two words since the
last time we met in our insincere clutch to our romantic allusion -
I was never able to murmur or scream a goodbye,
only a hurtling purpose to be dazed
that you still write to keep my muse
lingering in your night terrors, and
oh don't forget
the glass of wine on the stone cold counter,
we have both come far in our own lives
that development of
something new is such an inebriating piece
to hover
over

- G

there have been sureties
not been able to suffer from avoidance;
contiguity and octave that when our hands compose
they become
a cistern prognosis that are
visibly shut
in there own organs waiting for
an unborn character to synchronize to an
upset weakness, and a
faltered selfish flavor that jolts into
a superstition of someones apathetic
disposition - "he's only in your mind"

- G

In the culvert the crucifixion is another
discipline,
a bureaucracy
that I no longer believe in faith or vertigo
but there will be droughts and
veneer parquet floors in deserted
homes
while the pressure of overcoming guilt
is a struggle on its own and
the fear of a parallel rupture
assorted with emotional trauma because i've already given a
closure for you to hold
onto

- G

the vault of your sunshower
augurs
meticulously that the widow beside you
is reading "Les complaintes" by Laforgue
and then you effortlessely mention about the Perihelions
and estuaries,
with a clear sprout of conflagration
but don't forget that the following morning
you will need a warm cup of water with a piece of lime
to remind yourself about
ethical morals and fictional horizons

- G

the chokecherries have indentified the intercontinental blues that
eyes have averted towards Cornelius
the Centurion
while in your study room
you've realized that "our godforsaken Titantic dreams were never rehearsed or disembarked but
they were countless overwhelming
excuses of cardinal
hotel bedroom visits and "advection"
from obscene
choices to orbit around old conditions "the inquiry of
a riddle extending its meaning"

- G

the cauterization has tangents of confessional conciliatory
and misnomer that "we are drawn together"
by a masonry honeycomb
where there are inacessible railways
in my "refrain with your summer rain"
that I'm comprehending the interference between
failures and a knowing glance
of when your shifting in bed demanding that
you touch a memory
documentation a year from now
even if the sun is melting onto a projection of apothecary
addiction

- G

the quotations are phases
from "maldaption and urgency" to carnal a glass of
pinot noir
that nothing is correspondent or vociferous; but I had reality
explaining this is not the way to live with 'detailed confusion'
I held onto a predilection
reddening dawn and a distinct revelry along side techniques and melancholics
mishearing about the london life,
meanwhile it's a different situtation at home, and I need
a dictionary to emphazie the
term psychological trauma, because
the mourning is yet
to arrive

- G