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Description
II. youth (chemical estuaries.)
III. theTransient (hemispheres)

---------------------------

we practiced our youth,
     just seconds from the mortuary

          and felt
   every breath
           burn

  like chemical estuaries,
down our backs,
    settling upon
what was once defined only by memory.

          "And I swear, I felt infinite..."

    you painted me a picture
  on spilled-ink canvas
                of something i never thought
   i would ever see before,

            because in the last moment of that sunlight theTransient began
       dark moved into day in a most peculiar way
               everything came to life; so bright

        dayglow of oncoming traffic hits your face like a most divine illumination,

and the traffic only flew before us, that day, like some sort of river,
     in stop-motion eulogy for what is most usually considered important
  on their way to summerjobs;boringfamilymembers;importantmeetings

        and we only stood and watched, knew there were far more better things,
like watching the air beneath your feet, and hearing these airs of speech
          "I feel like a puzzle, in a most peculiar way..."

and you took your brush and flung it across the skyline,
exposing cracks and structures that blocked out the sun,
      splatteredink, a sort of more peculiar faultline,
  that moved across that hemisphere in mechanicalMotion,
    realized only by that most crooked hand.

  theTransient has began,
and it moves in coldlycalculatedmotions,
            creepingcoldly towards what was once considered temporary,
exposing things left unheardOf,
  denying Phaedrus what he wanted as his,

         and illuminating this dire manuscript,
with spilled ink.

      (  exploring
            just how much is exposed by the art of that crooked hand,
     unsteady but far more precise,
        in the movements of this least horrid slang. )

   &I, Hemispherical,
         moving diagonally across this skyline in crooked motion,
as if by the deft hand of something far more salient,
   or held in the light of that most crooked frown.

  because you took that paint,
and flung it across the skyline,
    in motions akin to that of your feet on the sand,
that night in which i first saw your crooked eyes
   move sideways,
     in bright half-light.

Description
II. youth (chemical estuaries.)
III. theTransient (hemispheres)

---------------------------

we practiced our youth,
     just seconds from the mortuary

          and felt
   every breath
           burn

  like chemical estuaries,
down our backs,
    settling upon
what was once defined only by memory.

          "And I swear, I felt infinite..."

    you painted me a picture
  on spilled-ink canvas
                of something i never thought
   i would ever see before,

            because in the last moment of that sunlight theTransient began
       dark moved into day in a most peculiar way
               everything came to life; so bright

        dayglow of oncoming traffic hits your face like a most divine illumination,

and the traffic only flew before us, that day, like some sort of river,
     in stop-motion eulogy for what is most usually considered important
  on their way to summerjobs;boringfamilymembers;importantmeetings

        and we only stood and watched, knew there were far more better things,
like watching the air beneath your feet, and hearing these airs of speech
          "I feel like a puzzle, in a most peculiar way..."

and you took your brush and flung it across the skyline,
exposing cracks and structures that blocked out the sun,
      splatteredink, a sort of more peculiar faultline,
  that moved across that hemisphere in mechanicalMotion,
    realized only by that most crooked hand.

  theTransient has began,
and it moves in coldlycalculatedmotions,
            creepingcoldly towards what was once considered temporary,
exposing things left unheardOf,
  denying Phaedrus what he wanted as his,

         and illuminating this dire manuscript,
with spilled ink.

      (  exploring
            just how much is exposed by the art of that crooked hand,
     unsteady but far more precise,
        in the movements of this least horrid slang. )

   &I, Hemispherical,
         moving diagonally across this skyline in crooked motion,
as if by the deft hand of something far more salient,
   or held in the light of that most crooked frown.

  because you took that paint,
and flung it across the skyline,
    in motions akin to that of your feet on the sand,
that night in which i first saw your crooked eyes
   move sideways,
     in bright half-light.