the infinitive relationals of squares and hands
are your true love
as you leave me with a clear impression
that we were only ever meant to be
a temporary measure
the ghostliness of my redundancy
is what amuses you
a faded fancy of maternality
nurturing and tending the gathered
now renegaded to trashy low echelon
am left with no options
but to remove myself to higher states
awakeness states
that yous appear to define as delusional
what can i do...nothing
lost in zen state like a wendiland cactus
in white sand
riveted
while the hummingbird feeds
to an eventual swallow tatoo gain
i remain
a speciman who was presupposed to be
anything but a temporary measure
...mayde in england as the snow came flying