chester maynes


drops…sliver of diamonds dripping my lips,
drenching from a vessel, circadian flow.

what else—

drastic sentiments emerging like pillars,
harboring me, pitching in black.

too deep—

i can’t measure the falling,
surging with tides, this oriental trance.
waiting to be over, waiting as creeds.
truth murders all superstitions.

ceasing, i can’t hear myself of panting,
plummeting on a surface, wet.
i pardon my eyes, they’re closed!

i can’t rouse, i can’t rouse,
i’m busy in wonderland!



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About chester maynes

poet, and a lover of music and books.
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