Poetry

This music was insane. 
Do not pluck the wounded apples 
of conjugal extraction. 
 
The volatility was increasing. 
Shades of blue were 
sharpening. The intrusive moon 
 
will decide the fate of 
fossilized fracture. The death 
came by the back door. 
 
The rough edges are to 
be smothered, after a back 
encounter. The saint was ready. 
 
The anxiety overwhelms. You 
try to find a small window 
to bring in the song bird.