Peter Marra-

notorious dreams of the lost women

what's next -

the light bends flickers

the space is oppressive

and the walls breathe slowly

it's coming for a slam-pain

while talking of a wonder-fall of signs

kissing the sand of the shore.

“I lost my name

I lost my name,”

she said very softly.

as she stared and stared as she touched skin

and slid down

slowly silently they removed their sunglasses

as shades of desire clutched the grass

ripping it out in clumps. she laughed at the sliced skin

of her hands a hard work that pays off

a trophy for her endeavors it’s the apex of her ambitions

“please talk to me,” as she backed up to the brick wall

Cold barrier felt, slowly slide down to a sitting position,

the damp sidewalk comforted her bare ass as she rested for a moment

“please talk to me. I dressed myself in iron.”

all aimed at shutting before a bombing of a forensic agony

a cemetery for suits of swords

a system of the ace of spades