I.
long nights foster the hammock-shaped moons and grey clouds on a pitch-black bed last
long nights, dark nights, dark clouds in swift cradling arms form
blankets for my long dreams, reaching for longer nights.
II.
cloudy thoughts spill slowly into my long dreams in which i
– an i asleep and therefore not me – dissolve the black sun in a far away sea of liminal light,
of tar and feathers, of night with endless-wicked stars. * buying a lighter brb
III.
always from within and within longing, they are knights. they foster the lengthening of night
with muddy blossoms, their smothering arms, your mothering clouds. night-shifting, day-dreaming
of garments and drag, of pitch black blankets in a black bed , of tar-dark stars – stars asleep and
therefore still stars.
IV.
and in this mangrove swallowing sea of oiliness and coal powder cheeks
(i wade through black mascara and panda eyes): a twinkle in the distance? or inside? or is it me?
i feel a spark. ink in a flask and venom for free. night-shopping. Long glows and Slim smokes.
my armor is weak. in this universe tiny flowers bloom at night.
V.
from within and within flowering, they are knights. stilled in a silk touch of strobes dripping
love songs on the floor. in a flash-flash. sweets on crowns and curls and bones. they wear the day
as disguise. under the blossoms wades a dressed night that is home for lost siblings, that blossom
like waders, that shout like lost sables in nightdresses of nocturnal joy. i haven’t seen us before.
VI.
dressed in lilac white, wavering their petals of ones and zeros, of digital to and not to loves, they will
burn up later. not now not yet not fully lover and rival. pouring out words not for the choking sun nor
the chewing moon, the shivery fire nor the shimmering lighter, the fish nor the fisher nor gepetto’s whale,
its clapper drooling for hunger and desire. not meant to be heard, but by the night?
it is chaos but it is not not us
VII.
i want them i want them i want you. have we seen us before? my flesh-flesh is pounding, so
push me aside and pull me in. let’s burn up now, bff. fully we + dark limbs.
all i can think about is you. we ashen sticks boned bones cedar wood scents.
all i can think about is you. we hot pots loose bits of big blue shots canned.
we sailing towards all i can think about is you. stop thinking start feeling all i can about is you.
wen who? we are the night. we night tonight.
VIII.
our ship is sinking beyond the bottom of our sleep. bam bam bam the beats hammered
“seduction jwz.” bam bam bam the flowers slid down the sweaty wall. waned down down down.
ears touched ears to chain the sea noise. resurgence by jay who drinks a glass of dub and
the rhythms of miles sounding like a foreign astral city, deeply dimmed. lmo – lmtfa.
IX.
* sound of sabers * piercing through our atmosphere. gloomy beasts hunted by four o clock tea time.
diadem of starlight lured into the swamp. (…) silver spoon gilded. pollen juice spilled * sip sip sip*.
love essence’s filth. o o overflowing fireflies, walk us home, tonight.
X.
once upon a time there was cosmos and chaos’ abundant opera.
it appeared as gabber dance at a distance. parola parola light years ahead and
apart and a part of. parola. and the horizon above the sun.
how can we re-remember? we was there
i guess what i’m trying to say is: this longing for longer nights, for glowing and glistening in the dark,
is hoping for collective astonishment in the night garden, for merciful rivals loving at last.
XI.
and suddenly, or slowly, languorously languidly lowly. these glowing knights fell asleep in our nest.
shh we cradled them kids killed but reborn in our chest.
– oh we used to be hearth, used to be warm belly, oh red-hot coal blue flame, now drift smoke of a motion inside.
we – you = leftovers forever half-open ruins. shh one last kiss before loosing touch.
don’t spill your name, i will find you by mistake. burnt out.
keep the night flower blossoms in your pocket.
XII.
long nights, long long nights reluctantly tame the hammock-shaped wilderness on a
pitch-black bed and they last forever. dark clouds of secrets in slow swaying arms form
blankets for ko knights, reaching for not not night.