Meeting our minds
in the midst
of a checkered
past
spawning a pawn
‘pon the royal dawn:
it’s no mean feat,
this strategic meet
as yer a singular spark
on the bold magnum
yonder
doubled down
on the move
of a shadow groove
where a yellow shroud
dons the faceless crown
with tuning chords
all told
on the tendrilled blue
and God as my witness
a careless whisper
is smoking in the rain
with a hiss of love
half-remembered
a mad lust
like earwigs
in strawberry flesh
squirmin’ on my tongue
those hungry angles
pushin’ up the daisies
on pussy willow days
spattered a chorus-
risen-Sun-
cum-uphill run,
a crimson-toothed
void yawning
calculated rites
ever keen
to clean the fish
from a cliffside wish
more wise than salt
a reigning
scrape for change
with naught but night-ed
key & spark
as we hunt & spawn
that sovereign song
a dripping rope
for abandoned hope
as autonomous
light from the dark music
yonder
doubled down
on the groove
of a shadow move
met our souls
in the grip
of a check-mate
passed.
Passionately penned, Benjamin. Another excellent write with lots of layers below the surface my friend. Amazing read as always. Appreciate you.
Damian