A break.

Off for a midsummer break. Be back the first of October.

2104.

Her voice breaks a heart
through token protestations
of what love won't be.

2103.

My heart is littered
with all the ongoing works
of hope's small trials.

2102.

Afterwards, I would
swear that innocence head
worn him like mirrors.

2101.

I yearn to be freed
from these contrived passions
eluding solace.

2100.

Smoke wafts up like wraiths
in the sky, lighting up their
passion in fire.

2099.

The beauty of the
sky holds, as stars mirror this
emotion's disease.

2098.

Silhouettes cross the
stage in their inanimate
dance to memory.

2097.

The broken heart of
a sinking ship's reckless hope
that rescue might come.

2096.

Outside, the streetlights
shine downward like passing thought's
interrogation.

2095.

The smell of rain and
brine, carried off the water
soothes me deep inside.

2094.

The delicacy
of bent stem's petals are cowed
under morning dew.

2093.

Her voice, arching sound
past the splendor of my heart
echoes in wonder.

2092.

Your eyes tell stories
from within gentle whispers,
fractured in the night.

2091.

Pinked flesh, hungry and
flush under the push pull of
a needle strewn back.

2090.

Upside down, the day
plays its reversed emotions
for the dyslexic.

2089.

Word voyeur, lost to
soft sighs and shuddering breaths
intoxication.

2088.

If only clouds could
be beds, coming down to pick
up dreamers each night.

2087.

When they told you that
people were fragile, you saw
a chance to break them.

2086.

Possession is an
idea we keep confusing
for such enslavement.

2085.

You douse me in your
passion but then forget to
mind the low embers.

2084.

He coats his love in
pity and then laments the
tides as such sorrow.

2083.

His heart sometimes feels
like a black hole always set
to steady hunger.

2082.

Even anchors grow
weary as rust pries at their
exoskeleton.

2081.

You can't stage love on
the same set as betrayal
and call the play fair.

2080.

Everyone seeking
the new happiness without
noting the sheen's wear.

2079.

I remake your words
into dreams and then blame you
for those stars falling.

2078.

There are a million
stories in my blood, taunting
me with their distance.

2077.

The lure of Kaufman
is a constant overture
to amnesia's need.

2076.

We are only so
much collision, broken and
bleeding from the crash.

2075.

The progress of the
world's assimilation is
making us Stepford.

2074.

Anxiety a
constant state in which only
loneliness resides.

2073.

Beauty too often
hides within the arms of those
who deny its grasp.

2072.

Heart's Oppenheimer,
always ready to become
death, world destroyer.

2071.

My heart feeds itself
on its own discontent. True
cannibalism.

2070.

A storm that sweeps out
everything but the mess
hiding underneath.

2069.

The desultory
march from birth to death, played out
with each slow season.

2068.

History a set
game bent on its irony.
Mirrors inverted.

2067.

The machine of those
tiny bodies burning with
a heart's full engine.

2066.

Sideways intentions
set to crawling as if they
were meant to be straight.

2065.

Bones were never meant
to be the firmament for
reaching such a high.

2064.

Comfort supplanted
by the constant need for more.
A devouring.

2063.

Expectation the
rote of love. The modern turn,
capitalism.

2062.

A world in which so
very little changes from
one day to the next.

2061.

Intentions are all
inverted on this playing
field of empty hearts.

2060.

The breeding ground of
loneliness, spreading nothing
but slow, dying hope.

2059.

A confusion of
senses. Vision taking up
the space feeling needs.

2058.

We are so obsessed
in debasing others, we
forget our frailties.

2057.

I resent far more
relationships than I will
ever just enjoy.

2056.

How odd it is, the
atrocities called up
by the greater good.

2055.

A fragility
in progress. Woman inverts
to child. Floundering.

2054.

The damages we
must keep tethered by the need
to ply memory.

2053.

If only the past
kept a queue to the present.
May lend difference.

2052.

A belated sense
of grace found in this steady
heart's play on moodswings.

2051.

A will to have my
choice both retained and taken.
Nonsense solutions.

2050.

I long for you more
than your reality could
ever live up to.

2049.

A disconsolate
view. The pervading masses.
Glory in shadows.

2048.

Sorrow overlooks
the beauty held in its true
underside. Searching.

2047.

A constant voodoo
against oneself with knives thrust
bent to sabotage.

2046.

Here the heart travels
full of suitcases rife with
another's baggage.

2045.

A moody refrain
to dress the season in some
backwards ode. Honor.

2044.

Bodies are bent as
furniture and lit like shrines.
Soul's genuflecting.

2043.

Fragility and
beauty too often meet at
the corner of loss.

2042.

Sometimes I want to
rub my mouth against yours just
to taste those feelings.

2041.

If only your faith
could dress my skin and shore up
bones for safekeeping.

2040.

The emptiness of
pursuit just leaves hearts set to
stasis. Loneliness.

2039.

A borrowed culture
to fill in the cracks of what
is always missing.

2038.

Your words mimed out as
solace are instead just an
art of slow murder.

2037.

Usurpation a
dream for beaten conquerors.
Too many windmills.

2036.

This heart was built on
lies and only understands
procrastination.

2035.

These late nights are full
of yearning and restlessness.
An escaped solace.

2034.

We are all hoarders
when it comes to the secrets
in our histories.

2033.

If only our shared
loneliness could create a
person to fill it.

2032.

My ribs are filled with
empty rooms that just reverb
back this heart's echoes.

2031.

Finger paints mar the
cusp of beauty in divine
parts ineptitude.

2030.

Such analogous
splendor in the balance. All
sides remain offset.

2029.

What purpose does a
heart unkept have other than
just a slow beating?

2028.

A thousand lures of
flesh. An eye's feast made hungry
by slow seduction.

2027.

The sun spirals its
own hypnosis in the sky.
Mere mortals, beware.

2026.

Want confused with need
as acquisition becomes
the only purpose.

2025.

Slaves to impetus
over choice. Breathing robots.
Fundamental base.

2024.

We're all such lonely
creatures just dreaming for some
sort of connection.

2023.

Sometimes I wish words
could be manifest as their
meanings. Vowel salve.

2022.

Your eyes cast outward
like constellations. Beauty
and myth, out of reach.

2021.

Here we fold and twist
these small letters together
and apart. Meaning.

2020.

So much of life spent
on forming a legacy
for a missed future.

2019.

A lesson there for
everyone. Grouped and singles,
victimizers all.

2018.

Just a mask of need
cast to imagination
and desperate hope.

2017.

The sky is dressed in
fantasy tonight. Dreams and
heroes on soft clouds.

2016.

A diaspora
of function found in fragile
heart's ethos system.

2015.

Mathematical
inversions on the upswing.
Heart economics.

2014.

A grudging habit
made up of locks and bondage.
A forced surrender.

2013.

A face pressed down in-
to those ribs for completion.
But masks never count.

2012.

A psalm of fingers,
spread like hungry starfish on
your skin. Still hungry.

2011.

A will to swallow
down another heart's soul. Our
mouths flush with romance.

2010.

Where intimacy
becomes a matter of screens
instead of bodies.

2009.

Culpable guilt points
back at everyone in the
room. We're such liars.

2008.

Held up by days when
every word seems to hold the
same meaning. Circles.

2007.

Harsh words masked as soft
daggers. Cutting up speakers
from the inside out.

2006.

Because these machines
are made up of such fragile
parts. Handle gently.

2005.

It's all fire and
ashes now. A life coated
in muted embers.

2004.

An embodiment
of the outward, painted in.
A slow surrender.

2003.

Instead focus on
the beauty of a season
lit up by wonder.

2002.

A drugged specter for
the paranoid. Lost children
of the waning times.

2001.

Inconsolable
intentions. Stunted progress
set continual.

2000.

Gluttony masked as
family. An irony
in slow manifest.

1999.

Love thus becomes more
subservience than its own
controlled emotion.

1998.

And so little is
changed by these empty efforts.
Delusion's comfort.

1997.

A world held slave to
a forever ticking clock.
Winding down each life.

1996.

Secrets upended
for the crowd's pleasure. A slow
soul's public torture.

1995.

An emotion's slow
surgery. To search out the
disease, pervading.

1994.

Sowings and reaps. A
science fiction dialogue
that masks the raping.

1993.

The gap between is
bridges on the gulf of future
movement. Forward, back.

1992.

Voracious without
direction. A broken love's
compass, pointing in.

1991.

Returning us all
back to a past that didn't
work the first time round.

1990.

Reason undercut
by disillusioned doctrine.
Losers' paradise.

1989.

A game of trial
and error with hearts. Only
fragile surrender.

1988.

Crawling out of my
skin to make tomorrow here
before today's gone.

1987.

Dancing along the
edge of any orgy of all.
Just waiting to fall.

1986.

Tied hands making for
their ever small comforts, the
inevitable.

1985.

Where the watchers knows
that to live is to obey.
A slow threat of mores.

1984.

Irony on the
edge of each machination.
Tender sodomy.

1983.

Caught in the stasis
of forward motion stuck in
perpetual pause.

1982.

Can hearts really be
anything but cannibals
where love is concerned?

1981.

An eternity
made of Sisyphus and that
damn futile effort.

1980.

Then reversal and
erasure. Over myself
for this next sequence.

1979.

An ocean of night,
encroaching ever onward
until it swallows.

1978.

Charades to all but
the central figure who trusts
with eyes closed. Dumb girl.

1977.

How can the heart of
the questioned so easily
break? Perfidious.

1976.

Thumping out each beat
in a discordant turn of
love's hypocrisy.

1975.

This results in a
set miserliness born of
fragile bitterness.

1974.

Shown by this woman's
heart as a ship. Forever
searching for its moor.

1973.

With a dangerous
underside hiding in all
my soft dismissals.

1972.

Pillars and their snakes
who cast them back. How biting
the judgment of girl.

1971.

A vicious lesson
in juxtaposition by
emotional drought.

1970.

Strangers and lovers
alike seeking some pull to
end this awareness.

1969.

The sky a grey pall
that reverberates hopeless
desire to all.

1968.

The fired synapse
of burnt-out intentions. This
is your heart on love.

1967.

Skylines still tinged with
the lingering hope of a
difference to last.

1966.

Altogether more
fabricated myth instead
of reality.

1965.

A catharsis in
progress. Stunt brain and restart
heart, manually.

1964.

The mystery of
veins unwound in gentle love's
faulty intentions.

1963.

Pressed deep into the
haze of this entrenched disease.
And on the spokes turn.

1962.

An extension of
hope wrapped up in a pretty
little illusion.

1961.

No matter how the
cover is dressed, the inside
always still leaking.

1960.

A living body
hollowed out and filled back
with a machine's heart.

1959.

That fragile heart, made
of romance and confusion,
holds its secrets close.

1958.

It is the hidden
that draws one to want more but
only if appeased.

1957.

Infatuation
creeps in on insidious
feet. Soft destruction.

1956.

Bury me with my
puzzles so your version can
be reality.

1955.

Absence and questions
left strewn among staggered dreams
and love's confessions.

1954.

Renewal found in
slow blinks and soft slumber. A
starlight's paradise.

1953.

The face shown outward
so different from the heart in-
side. Dichotomy.

1952.

The most depressing
kind of fables, wrapped in real
events that haunt we.

1951.

A vision cast in
duality. An echo
of the heart inside.

1950.

And the upside down
world returns, bearing a new
tide to wash away.

1949.

A fragile balance
of restrictions, holding self
hostage to demand.

1948.

An army of slow
perception. Judgments accrued
for absent honor.

1947.

Learning to forget
the first betrayal in a
line ever growing.

1946.

Little girl of plays
with no role left to comfort
her oblivion.

1945.

Hers was an act of
repudiation, shunning
that which mirrored back.

1944.

One mouth ties itself
into two and on the rot
just keeps on spreading.

1943.

Here, kissing becomes
nothing more than a disease
of soft transference.

1942.

Making us all now
just hollow ventriloquists
with props inside.

1941.

Hungry and vicious,
the litter of love broken
follows in her wake.

1940.

A slow reversal
of roles with him bent under
her for the taking.

1939.

An elaborate
play, orchestrated in aid
of propped delusions.

1938.

Sometimes it feels like
the earth might slip its axis
and just disappear.

1937.

Empty wishes and
desultory dreams, caught in
a mood's slow progress.

1936.

Eventually
I will end up back under
that low hemisphere.

1935.

The sky a hungry
beast, sending its stars out to
eat children alive.

1934.

Tales of possession
masked as a gentle fury
of raging passion.

1933.

So mood swings ensue.
One brain and heart trying to
solve mirror's riddle.

1932.

There is a scale in
my ribs forever shifting
side to side for help.

1931.

A complicit cast
of duplicity made from
illusions of love.

1930.

A memory's thread,
tied back into everything
I want to forget.

1929.

The push and pull of
change forever beckons to
feed its needy lust.

1928.

Mountains and absent
memory are so often
gone from the hollow.

1927.

And the reach of a
seduction could rip apart
the closest of ties.

1926.

Their love some disease
that deadens the heart before
made sacrificial.

1925.

The world will keep on
expanding until one day
it must eat itself.

1924.

The fragile under-
belly of the realist's heart,
whored out asunder.

1923.

Of course, the womb was
long lost to fire and dust
by then, time eclipsed.

1922.

Time cycles ever
on in the slowest escape
from life's albatross.

1921.

We speak through our screens,
each letter an emotion
echoing backward.

1920.

Moratoriums
and dissections, your heart grows
tired explaining.

1919.

His words mime a need,
desperate for its quiet,
out to me in morse.

1918.

An anchor around
my neck of desecrated
bones, set to choking.

1917.

He speaks distortions
in each syllable of an
aching, broken heart.

1916.

The dust kisses the
window corners and drapes the
room, a disused shroud.

1915.

The larval remains
of a regurgitated
heart lays twitching here.

1914.

The bruise of winter's
shade reaches out its hungry
fingers. Consuming.

1913.

She speaks softly, barbs
daggering cynicism
into blind minions.

1912.

A beautiful game,
charades and sleights of hands, met
under love's regard.

1911.

A room of hollow
ears and empty hearts, cast in
bare abandonment.

1910.

A silhouette, left
as the only evidence
of what once remained.

1909.

The unrelenting
onslaught of rain here wears the
sky down in cleansing.

1908.

A surrealistic
fanfare, solipsistic in
its failing wonder.

1907.

The colored fever
of season's storms, resonates
like an anchored bell.

1906.

A massacre of
expended motion, spent and
forever wanting.

1905.

My feet are anchored
in lead with each step further
extending away.

1904.

I yearn to mold space
and words direction, cast to
house sublimation.

1903.

Desire fills up
my lungs in a desperate
attempt at drowning.

1902.

Peace, an elusive
wonder by which all souls wait
by the side for turns.

1901.

If only I could
just poke my ear and let the
thoughts come tumbling out.

1900.

Angels are a soft
ideal, leering in judgment's
blind usurpation.