out of coffee, hope, and time

no words can be said
to exonerate the
velvet extravagance
where uncommunicative
lulls of dead waters
disintegrate upon
the discarded shells
still sounding the
white noises when the
tides recessed back
to roil upon themselves
in acrimonious spite
crusted salt extrusions
mark the flood line
for future archeological
excursions into caves
lined with mislabled
religious texts and
unacknowledged theorems
among an ossuary of
mythical monsters
where divine dalliances
spawned antiquated
allusions to rancorous
beasts of unrequited
adorations and burden
the collected works of
unassuming affections
carved from ivory desire
perfectly preserved in
globes of amber malaise

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