Nonsense - 1

Melting butter
on a nail of moon
dripping in languishness;
a slender strike of hateful love
and the taste of solid cubic pink - dissolving in blue;
a ringing sound of chime dances -
up upon my single speck of oblivion
and rises upwards, circling with a vibrant downfall
in the fourth dimension of a frictionless parabola.

Broken Link - 2

I dream of reality - unknown.
I live a dream - never dreamt.
Love you if you can't escape loving me.
And hate it when it is impossible to hate you.

I can't speak what I want.
I can't want what I fancy.
I can't fancy what is right or not.
I'm never right in getting the words you lip.

Why is there -
So many of pins?
If it is called the happiness -
That looks like yellowish sweetness!

I like this - Let it be.
Like a curl in my hair.
Unbalanced and disgusted.
Not really virtual or virtually real.