My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Lovers, Sisters, why asked thus for ambiguity, our calling cards formed for us & we nocturnal sprites holdeth hands outstretched to thy storm sky ornaments. For 'tis rapture we crave, obfuscate a velveteen Elysium bathed heliocentric candlelight. This

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Canicular days o' Summer, a deluxe cloying balminess, motes doth flit thy air & her amber seated thy amphitheater o' elixir. Now, my love doth with such enchantment entwines limbs caress cold cut o' silver heavy ringed fingers. Mouths findeth lips doth

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Isotope houses doth await within all thy crepuscular elysian fields. For 'tis our secret, doth rise smoke upon thy lips, we multiplicities born forth upon a Diabolus interlude, magnetic obtrusion upon an irrecoverable Byzantine moral compass. For

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Eternal thy apparition o' masquerade linking a paradoxical burlesque, two universes entwined such a prolific utopia. Expunge the bathroom mirror, 'tis mist, steam dissipating doth revealeth each our factitious smiles. Howbeit, my lady, how we hath

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Our enriched skin embossed a hydrogen-peroxide loyalty, an amorous entanglement. A subsequent desire thus accoutre oneself inside a refrigerator, for still doth falleth thy blistering steel sun o' withered torridity. 'Tis yet further reminders of

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: As we lay breathtaking lingerie removed sunset upon thy patio, motes flit thy balmy air, sheen doth glisten upon our flesh… How doth our spectral odyssey evolve, thy roller coaster pilgrimage unto oblivion. Each luminescent God o' science doth jaunt

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Shattered glass doth leave our vacant lives strange symmetry, only doth weep alien luminescent, thy tin foil spaceship doth take us elsewhere unaccounted for without a receipt. Once, years past love, I doth gaze enraptured upon thy outlandish aura, a

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Now serpentine a tempestuous divinity in Cimmerian form, face neath an ancient cowl, the attenuated trees bow in acclamation, doth shed leaf & leaves alone. Let our endeavors beholden through correlated essays strewn pages upon polished floors' assay.

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: memories flood cold & torturous the avoidance o' thy pink marshmallows, for these, as She consistently advised, doth whisper, CIA bugged these. Devotion derelict, Oh my love! Exquisite idolatries, love's knot now untied, for strangely I beholden this

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Let now exuberance born o' Triple Moon, thy Venerable Wiccan Goddess & how riseth thy twilight streams upon awaiting earth. Satiating facelessness doth saturate our three-dimensional souls. Quietus 'tis held elapsed, the Stones Menhir o' our archaic

My Mourning Phantasmagoria: Rachel Morin, Kayla Hamilton. May rest eternal entwined thy velvet arms o' glorious peace 'till all doth meet again, it seems. Tears hath proffered to cut flowers against thy wall wrapped cellophane curbside. Oh! What sorrow doth thoust portray

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Alas how governance corrosion 1984, a secret Polizei knock upon thy door & how falleth long thy suburban killing fields. How judges' wigs, thy legal system's determination ne'er assemble Humpty back together again. How pain doth cut through euphemisms,

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: All thy infiltrated, our personal demons doth walk under thy Discotheque Ball, the derelict nightclub, empty floor, darkest dust & fallen ceiling tiles. Each our journey from here doth behold apparitions. The tea leaves view through correlated glasses

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Only now replay in B&W 4K, all the prophets o' our doom, all dead potted plants colored kasha leaves once apricot flowers. Miles o' Greyhound drone, the fitful sleep o' the damned cometh curled alone umbrageous cabin, all surreal hallucinations, a

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Thus, as I avoid joining the Central London 'indie 500' commute for one more day. Thus, today doth find me post Easter, horizontal upon the leather couch in sight o' empty cocktail shakers, chocolate egg wrappings wrapped silver purple still. 'Tis deep

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: How I doth avail oneself o' ideas o' I. Compartmental this sarcophagus illusory, all hallowed moments, each attached juxtaposed, gilt daisy chains & how I, the wearer o' said encumbrance. Her o' phosphorescent serene majesty doth bow, for She whispers

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Now drowned, thy skeletons tempest, all piled high await crisp waves & only thus erase thy saturated buoys club. Summer howls transcendental lollies & as thy captain's feline hideth from storm, bear witness o'er steel doors, sailboats & rooftops,

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Hath now this juncture o' crows, their darkness, bespoke glorious irradiating souls, a fanfare from thy battlements. Betwixt centuries, mausoleums fashioned time-worn storms, thy brutal barometer, a countenance falleth from guilt tables o' thy gods.

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Shineth veiled thy mascara, crimson lip gloss demons doth frolic & take me under thy rustic sun, whereas only meadows, wild flower butterflies & insects cavort these eternal summer daydreams. Causality consciousness, Airbus doth ride A320 out o'

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Seated again upon thy Cosmic Chesterfield, death ray remote control upon my lap, a cool battery operated company to my hallucinogenic being doth once more revisit my erstwhile. Ions unto existing non-existence, away thy bright luminescence. For now,