5th Degree Bleeding Prehistronic Skies

how did we
get to this space
this placeless
destination
this over grown abandoned
patch of dismay
spineless conflagration
another story
or a myth
a lie that gets distracted and
takes the fifth
fading with the light
trading in for a night
only fire will make it right
amongst the bits of dried blood and broken glass

lower the curtain
the masquerade is over
 the party is gone
the building is burning
what kind of dream lingers
in ash all alone?

bring all the bile you want
pour if off
the edge of the cliff with the memory
hesitate before all the glitter and gall that lashed out like
enemies frozen in the bloodied snow.

no one will find them
no one will know the lake of fire
no naked bodies dancing
entranced lanterns watch
until their end of time.
read through the fine print
lost in a dash.

I hate flakes

The kind they can't make a shampoo for!

"As I have found in SF, wanting is not the same thing as desire.

So far I have tried setting up scenes twice and both times something came up for you at the last minute after we've made plans-not to mention extensive messages. I don't generally give people a third chance to cancel unless its someone exceptional with whom I have already established a good relationship.

I have no problem playing with those men who have tight schedules, work on call or don't always know their schedules until the last minute-but it is so rare that I find mutual times and energy to connect with them that its often a lot of wheel spinning with very little reward. Eventually I just run out of interest as desire is sublimated into the void."

Man, when I am ticked its hard to hide.