P I N P R I C T

slip along your svelte fuselage
i will find your break
the cracks
like ice in the cold
groaning softly under its
pressure folds..

you ve lent me your avarice
compassions
bound against the will
like pressure holds

you wished me bold
but once lept
the dark sweet evolution
of inertia in its desire
the hunger of gravity
is its deliverance

like rain falling
bask in the sensation
chilled driven
or subtle
as new thorns on old
blooms

the theories of rations
and the choice
of passion.....