{swallow the ones you bury}
There's no fear
like lost translations
to remind you of what's no longer clenching between your teeth;
a blood echo to flood your mouth with the taste of abandon,
thundering a ruby web of spurned sentiments into the great gaping gash
that's sucking in disheveled archtypes
& firing a machine of shared vision
to finally unleash the sweet sour of your tongue.
A perfect flowering pain...
stringing its way up the cracks in your walls,
grinding it down to a recrudescent mush
that burns your lungs to scream awake your bones.
