We are but governing bodies
Affects of gravity
Students of science

I would rather be blown to smithereens
   Than torn in half

Washing machine blues, brights in blight.

Sans-sumpsimus for summer smiles and tidal torrents

Running with noctilucent sensibility

Eternal bastardom

white lipped

heavy hands and heartfelt histrionics

dictate
with a smile

Minor medicine
Brighter breaches

best foot forward, bad foot back
the better I get the more I split in half

(a rhyme to sully my polish)

exercises in atrophy

Hungry for haimish heart

is subject to automated audits of feeling

Ships wrecked upon pretense