Dissolved girl
with her overnight
quickie-mart eyes
vanishes out of the corner
of love’s recursion,
bent upon a kiss.

Eros oil and cinnamon,
she jars the nectar of bees.
If the bees are tethered
granites black erode untold,
oceans green fill with soot,
and rhythmic sol fails to rise.

Shadows have no memory,
only a potent mythology.
Insects (vanities, heroes, deities)
are the end of nectar’s vitae,
as light on asphalt tracts
dims in perpetuity
and meaning.

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2 Responses to Soot

  1. Mike says:

    Just passing by.Btw, you website have great content!

    Making Money $150 An Hour

  2. keithecho says:

    Mike, thanks for the read. I tried to get to U’r site, but U must be a salesman or spam. I hope your not a bot, but if so, say hi to the sewing machine.
    Sorry, Keith

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