Canceling Bang Bros Membership

Looting in the dark. The body as a resource

Profane

nails:
His dream of elytra crops,
His pale usual.
An eye overwhelms me with songs of windows
And the body I inhabit as a guest
who lost his chisel blow the waves.

the night, plenty of stab wounds in the shade
covets the color of the cat. Zozobra
my teeth with the smell of the siren. My body suspected
flooding but no blossoms with dripping buckets
Only the melancholy of God. A slurry penetrates

tumbling as if dying;
Every night breaks with their losses
And the mirrors are shattered in his face robbed.

No walls to resist the robbery of anguish;
In those dark candles burning storm delivered to the suicide masts

As I have no hiding place where I can protect my margaritas. Miro

belly
gray sky looking at the hole where escapes thunder
some of your chips hit dropping
shines on the soul hung outdoors.

My body, spine deformed, free of knots
A faint shadow lifeless in my arms.

The shell plundered, compassionate,
collapsed on the funeral of declawed.