Honeymoon

The moons are for it, and want contact.

Reducing being like the others, crazily found in tomorrow, and they are clean. No keep, and find her tidy. I take forgiving on fully. The last indigenous wedding, in a pond, was, kindness, I went white as sap, bleeding from a tree, I stole the alms, and thought of they and the them as black and turning deciduous, full grown, and stuck rooted to the ground of  adulthood.

I sat in the back of a dark taxi while she eyed the sun visor, applying lip-gloss. Bought steel knickers, my only contact with the others was how to drink, when to drink, to stay in the room that kpet and sold the drink, so it was that, I drank so much, that I was the cause of,  the black murder in the honeymoon. The wife drowned in a monsoon, and I said please, do that.

I stabbed the white plate with a knife, intently, rhythmically, I'm white! hurting my white,she tapped the empty see-through jar with a black straw,slowly, methodically.

I got lost, in drink, for two weeks, and in my hand broke things, ringing a danger period, there were no protein colours, once there were hundreds of celebrations, my doubts are not yours, I said to the bride. She was full of fashionable apologies when I took to the holiday knife, like soap operas. I bought a green t-shirt, with the words; I Stay Here.

I sleep in the oceans actions, back and forth, and dreamy foam sounds. I am greeting the world. Loving has no ground, when accusations are with girls, the bride either crazily stroking my speech, or stoking hearths, went in and stole a bag fold, with love, a card and a card number, bananas chewed and marks on twisted tie dyed T-shirts, floundering in the tide...

Nullified, the fish at the honeymoon, dried and floundered.

=

I am too world. Decide all the make-up and that. 

I left the honeymoon bed, to tie myself up in a sleeping bag. The cigarette bank, and my green card got taken. 

Moon says with twisted hands, 

"Jack's eyes lie, when the cider in him moans and  cry."

I stabbed her white skin with a knife, I killed her. 

I pack up, all Covered in bleach, after the blood, dump my wife in the ocean, write myself a reminder, and wipe the make up off my face.

Much stains are here. I am depressed for one moment. "Few things can survive a black monsoon,\"

My fashionable bag, was actually the world,  the pair of us, due, fully for the ticket back home. 

Stole her body, threw her into ocean, and only bleached the red marks, my green hands spotty, `i have too much, too mcuh bleach. And my nose is dribbling. Drink up my danger, one of the shit periods, there body broken in glass. There on the floor, bottle to mouth, realise a thousand comedy possibilities. 

My maid entertains, i am drunk she is sleeping. I pour your black doubts into the water, ripped and shredded and crimson, I'm not on the  drink. Bring the thoughts we keep here, downstairs in the barroom. 

So, I packed up and left the blood marks in the ocean. The maid won't find out.