That she is vain… the wind around me

ruffling black-grass of the crown-ground,

she disperses my sanity-seeds all around,

despite of what be told by double-eyed-faces,

this blood-canal bursts by yearling-races,

that which sews placebo-roots onto me,

inscribing words in this stain-shell by a fee:


holding my crouch-stick, never be straight,

to wash her point-toenails, her tongue thus sate


For dVerse, where beguiling Bjorn Rudberg holds a Meeting in the Bar. I will be in and out, here and there, may be dizzy or vague, but in the end… in the cavern of your words, I’d find my space.

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17 thoughts on “That she is vain… the wind around me

  1. ha. the rhyme of this only adds to it…the sanity seeds cast….this has such a haunting feeling to it….ever a servant to her wishes eh? smiles….very cool and fluid…


  2. Glenn Buttkus says:

    nice excursion through kenningland; love the crotch-stick, sanity-seeds, for sure; needs two reads, but pays off like a slut-slot.


  3. These words resonate with i’ve been in a place so the wind did separate the seeds of sanity..and scatter them about..round me..

    But then there is will…and maybe not hope..yet..

    But always will..
    to survive..
    until sanity seeds gather together …
    to make hope..
    Stilled by the breeze..of LOVE..
    in ALLITIS…


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