Sam Turner- this is the poem for submission to still life, you can put it under someone else's name if that would be better, preferably someone who plays lax/football. me and matt would want it that way.

Flight of the Triple Kiss…

Nature aligns in an intertwined secret cocoon, devoid of the journey’s unending splendor
Tidal movements dictate the tears of Jesus as they tickle the thoughts of misunderstanding
Midnight entombs the flesh of the cold steel lips as they caress each other in an impassionate apocalypse
Tomorrow’s breath, composed of dreams, flows everlasting into the valley of mischief, memory askew, masking the truth of forever’s trickery

As if the mermaid’s tale was the benchmark of doom’s friendship; this is your sex exploding into a prismatic daunting gaze
Consume my aura with your slippery tongue
Grace is but a flower blooming off the bellybutton of Mother Earth’s tainted cousin

Hark… the undulating fashion of lyrics unseen, uncut from the womb of sorrow; darkness, the time bomb!

The Iris of thought eclipses the wisp of hell’s whisper
The bow of terrorists, likened to the intuition of a post-modern delicacy, produced that which you cannot grope with a tiny tong
Colonize your lackadaisical melodrama, pierce the bubble and invite the consequence of reverb
Gorged upon by the eco of humanity, silence mutes an infinite ego of a once radiant humanoid civilization

Forgiveness takes flight along a charismatic pathway consisting of antebellum segregationalist propaganda; behold the sterling creature
Harvest the seed of lust and compressed fickleness
The palette of smiles is a thunderbolt nightmare protruding through a rust tattered monologue, born of the falsified speckled sponge
The quotient of a kaleidoscope freefall is a sundry plunge into a goblin-like dwelling mannequin; download the brainwaves, consult your genius

A bejeweled toad fondles the mysteries; a spoiled tart indeed
An Iraqi delight punctures a fortified, pristine scarab omelet, which is the handmaiden of the bladder of wisdom
A flood of glowing occupation beckons your peasantry
Leviathans of gaseous potency enshrouds an obtuse poignancy deemed that of a foreseen daffodil of permafrost indignation
Marginalizing of one’s trivial encroachment likewise enchants the senses sans mental constraint
The vehicle of a knitted canyon brings forth the solar anticipation of the jade swine

The buoyancy of your conception shall be preserved unwillingly by a widowed merchant
Fester the container holding lent memories dazzling a confession worth educating
A vigilante wrought with remade minimalism, constant with the patterns, a riddle nevermore
Nonetheless an ethereal focus compounds a trio of accepting desire…

I AM EXPILICT FANTASY- consumed by a dancing heritage…
tickle