Formation swimming

Pixels mix well with the ink
I am using,
fusing with pigments
to alter those figments
of these I imagine.

and to alter reflections
I
cancel out imperfections
to find
there is more
than reality
in things that
I don’t see.

Her lips only bruise me
but
were designed to
confuse me
as if I needed confusing
with the meds that I’m using

fractals incline
and each shattering
refines the pain
until
they shatter and reform again
but
that’s the pain of the kiss
given by this

and this is the molten
the dew from the
fountain
the be of the be all
the mountain before me
then four aces
the flush
a final drink for the lush

pixels extend and reach
the ultimate
end
or the pen runs dry.

© 2017, John Smallshaw.