torn pipelines
thoughts
resounds in lights
printing blindness
hearts leaking their pulses
to where I outer cry denial resisting
what happens is
not happening.
fourteen fathoms down concentric seams
between these garbled currencies
where words desist where they
thrash against placement
you were a brook of violet
who turned vermilion to black
and blackness your reflex
re-sits in you..

The small man and his plush coat.

 slight light cracked into the house as the morning sun blossomed above the clouds

high and bright the spirt of the sun was the brightest of them all

the little girl fiddled with the key then slowly pulled back the door. Entering the long passage way in search of her father who was a rather short man with a strong chin he could never part from his plush coat and favorite scarf and was known for or loathed for a few drops to menny of the unpleasant smelling soppy's after shave. she found it unusual that the air was not stale with the stench of his after shave... 

the bed room door was laid partially opened she stumbled while peeking in causing a creek as the door leaped out.

(well it must have been an egar emergency) she thought 

for nothing had been tuched their sat on the bed his striped candy like scarf and the small plush coat (odd) she said (must ask Platrovelos if he knows of the were about of my father" Platrovelos was a great wizard and it is said if he doesn't know then there is nothing to be told.

a sedative? tell me. what. will go next?

can you strain it in paints the color of my emotions. 

any wider? but you dilate the hour so later hours fit

inside who you will be, scarce, frail as air at damaged altitudes

someone inhales unaware it was you

distracting me...