Link to my Poetry Series: PHANTASMAGORIA POETRY & PROSE.Series Status: ALL THREE LIVE Upon Amazon.

Oh! Illicit portals lavish lilies entwined dense opium, Moros o'er Orphic cognition doth frolic Agaric, a spiked tin-foil odyssey. Psychedelic eyes, flit bloody apocalyptic prophecies. Inescapable Nyx, Queen o' disarray & always too late, too late hourglass sand doth eradicate.

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Such implicative antipsychotic morns, cyclic ripple o' perpetuity. We lost bus rider's back seat slow kiss anticlockwise, a déjà vu oblivion. For what tribulation doth enslave languorous, the end-of-line vehemence & I beholden patina, missed stops upon galactic disembarkation.

'Tis Stygian nights, our only inamorata, for eons doth drift starless skies, flits witness spectral metamorphosis. For we doth crave entwined flesh as nightfall impregnates a candle dappled plume, we sprites fading amidst dissimulation o' now, silken figures veiled o' slow dance

Our sentience but a movie & we holdeth tight o' lead role. Our psychodrama played out whim o' Projectionist. For cinematic universe riseth stark, a silver screen polished, 3i-atlas illuminated & doth count. This script 'tis footprints o' melodrama all formed a meritorious comet

Awakened exquisite twilight, luxurious limbs gliding hush o' night & here infatuation shineth a silk drowned ocean. For sensual kiss doth flood absolve. Elsewhere we are myriad mislaid parts, but not here, beholden quicksilver moon gazes in fear, for time fadeth away shadowlands.

My enlightened confidants, I witness time's sardonic carmine cloud casting turmoil upon all doth adjoin, l gaze once luminescent, a world brittle, slow undone. For spoliation doth grow gorse beds atop such psychopathy & how amorphous tears weep ruination, silent cernuous faces.

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WARNING I STRONGLY ADVISE DO NOT BUY A YEARLY PREMIUM X ACCOUNT. A week now, I have been trying to get a refund of £456.00 for my X premium account that will not load, Instead they demand more money. @GooglePlay @Support.No help from X, nor, see (below) from Google Play services.

03.We, but minute fragments o' life nebulae, formed unto a shadow cloak. Oh! My friend, gazeth atavistic, a symmetry luxuriant, souls alight a truism kissed along infinitesimal silhouettes. Now slow forsake our source code, irrevocably flickering dark eyes archaic fire rekindled

002.'Tis North peaks betwixt words, a twin surreal concatenation, doth unravel o'er each page my well thumbed holiday novel. 'Tis that juncture o' lake in February. Laura Palmer doth overflow water, pines & plastic, layeth unknitted bathing suit adjacent a photographic shoreline

001.Oh! Embrace galvanic smartphone confidantes lift thy hearts, raiseth skies & from our semi-detached cells. Lest us now concatenate moist foreheads, an outline o' 99's & flake to boot. Sticky fingers how we doth plunge headlong ignition sequence, such a coy lunar happening.

My Poetry.Phantasmagoria:.Birth o' Icarus & how riseth neath rotisseries, all held at the mercy o' too many Bloody Marys upon an Amex card dietician. Egress revolving polished brass & looking glass door, spectral pale doth step outside neath resplendent ray-ban scorching sun. A

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Upon stark Calculus, tears falleth like oil paints, falling each canvas once upon a time. Entwined tales thy southern gods o' ruination along thy ancient trail o' Katrina. My leather coat collar turned up against the sultry heat, only painless death o'

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: The rain falleth a perished & brittle breath, thou opacity upon the stainless steel & you turn to me my love, gently ask, is it possible unburden, rekindle thy crepuscular exquisite soul. Wings dark circle bloodied corpse remained thus, thy earth below

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Arid dunes noir, lifts up glass bones, skeletons o' a bygone swimmers age. Black sands doth drift with tumbleweeds below such an apricot apocalypse sky. Now doth swirl my love betwixt monosyllabic scrolls I know all too well thy hypnotic diamorphine,

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Candle lit buttermilk flesh, thy eerie faerie lights, await surreal garden o' Alice. Dandelion seeds float a hay-fever blizzard scene. 'Tis our paradox luxuriant, for we thrice salient contingents unnoticed through flower beds. How born forth

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: . And was it the butler o' Aragón in the four-star dungeon, with the rolled-up copy of Swansea A-Z?!. 00:00 nihility…thy minute o' non-existence, thy fulcrum o' thy world, whereas the lost scream unto paper bags, ne'er to be heard at all. 'Tis this

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: For however many eons doth meander suffocating peacock skies & all Allegheny congruous mountain scripts & auditory sound determined a wild mushroom teapot. Let us raise a pinky porcelain fine China tea bowl. A finger $5 buffet breakfast, swift removal

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: As to the pre-eminent nature of our narrative account, all cacophony 'tis deafening & reverberates omnipresent. Sunbeams entangled the Mariana Trench, a bespoke guardian o' creatures ne'er seen before, these nocturnal masks, these incandescent monsters

My Poetry Phantasmagoria: Autobahn thy candlelit headbeams so fast, truly momentary, cars doth rush by mere whispers o' such equilibrious inconsistency. Berlin, thy resplendent Deutschland Bear, illuminated tears awaken venerated imperium o' night. Unter den Linden, magnificent