Rare Form

Shout at the succulent clouds
Who in reply wring themselves out on the house
Doubt that your lungs carry cries
Sufficient to pry weeping eyes outta these skies
I remember why
Waiting around day in day out
Swallow the keys when we’re realased
Waiting around which wasted hours are our ire?
God is where you let it be
So tell me if there are such things
Are they things such as these?
Ah so rile up the holes in your head
Let each little abyss have its sips on the infinite
Tongue kisses
When we sit still
Will we distill
Spirits you might swill?
Let me be the one rare form