the crown tips

my eyes....
deceptively buffered by prose and lull
they squeeze out a semblance of emotion that tears at

my heart....
stutteringly aghast at prurient interest
it's beating rampant with combative charity crawling will-nill cross

my skin....
crushingly seared at seams of isolation
the necessity for hullish aversion infinite and unabridged via

my soul....
inviolate and unchaste in it's essential dispense of grace
where the whole does not dissect the one....transcendence