The Mare

The mare sometimes neighs when the lids cover worldly sights.
Lines forming together making apparitions of fright,
Waving streams of energy releases, untouchable.
Oozing as if, but never mustering the reach.
Smiles amidst that which freezes movements for mentions of Poka-dot Perils.
The lips of Fitz
The lips of Cryst
The lips of Myst
Speaking paradoxical delights
Disguised as messages behind the unformed murals in twilight’s light.

Night Sweats

Night sweats and symbols find their way into the places of closed eyes and clouded realities.
Decoding the meanings lay risk to perceptions decrees.
The body twists as the infiltrations visit with intentions beyond anticipations.
Wonders of consciousness levels released.
Beckoning attention, foreign speak profounds.
The eyes squint to understand, as if the forehead muscles can expound
Concerning brief interludes with the places in-between the lines.