Seattle drippings

Long let stand the pleasance of my hand on bare skin flesh to crawl with a drawl of significance on this night full of the drippings of a Seattle rain
and blood is the color of my sleeplessness the value of my sheepishness in the face of your dead grin
but i am a pear of a man the sick sick brand broken by loathing a self bloating instability that ruins to cripple me with its own redundancy over and over and over and over again
what is that in your frown in that drool on your crown as you judge as if you could as if your subjectivity was the objectivity of my enmity
believe me relieve me deceive me receive me oh just hold me tell me that i am worth the trouble.

Precipice

In sickness come dreams so lucid posing questions pointing the way to answers only half offered unveling a new mist a fresh wrist for a wrapping and i feel a sapping on the back of my neck to ponder who i am that maybe i should start afresh with eyes of the other and wonder yes wonder how they see because maybe my world is not as self manifest as i would have it be and you would give me the possibility that there is more certainty in you as to my true nature than i could ever imagine whereupon this precipice the decadence of your highest cliffs whence suddenly i might see that i am indeed the unfathomable beauty of which you speak.