nevering

Sadness in Saturn

The sun is on the back of her neck as she tries to read the intricate book on owls, as solemn as biblical angels, the feathery fiends have themselves tangled in ellipses and the psychology of space. A thousand men divide in a killing spree of desire and stones in shoes and cities are wavering on the edge of sleep, always, critical and longing like weary women who wear cologne in bed and eat creamy desserts at 4am, one nation has split into many petals of revolving sadness, congratulating the sign of Saturn not understanding a single lisp of sound until the last murmur, your last breath, calculated, premeditated, held back like a smile.

In a thousand petals the cologne of understanding lisps and curls, intricately make their solemn revolving understandings, tangling in necks and books of feathery kills. Reman here, longing for women and just desserts, premediating the sun's back at 4am, critically wavering for all the desire of smiles divide men and like stones in water they spree and eat their shoes, making psychology the lonely journey toward a God that ellipses and backs the owls, sadness is Saturn in neutral always trying to untangle you.

posted by Cathy @ 10:45 AM