Budding - Shakespeare's Monkeys

budding

a ciphered breeze radiates
chilled fingers to
flicker over my skin and
keep sleep a dream.

under the old quilt I imagine
you, I
crawl inside your likeness
and rebut today's rain,
the maple's goosebumped branches,
my pale hands.
reject robins ravening of
drunken worms, to

deny me, to
construct another.

Anstey -

That title is killer

In S2, should there be a comma after branches?

I'm definitely feeling a bit dumb here, I don't understand the last couplet. I think that's me and not the writing.

Norm -
oh, man, I love this.

Leanne -

Honestly, I think you need to open with

a ciphered breeze [does something like wandering or perverting the course of justice or strangling roses]

as just the statement seems quite abrupt and disjointed.

or, alternatively,

the chilled hand of
a ciphered breeze

(I like it ciphered, by the way, n.i.c.e)

No worries with the closing lines though -- I totally get the need for reconstruction AND the need to not be deconstructed.

Callooh -

Anstey:

I'm no good at squiggles ( . , ; : ~ - ) ...

the last couplet... um, well it's sorta like (not) living in present reality, or something like that... don't feel bad, I barely understand myself on a good day

Callooh -

Norm: hey thanks...

Leanne: absolutely... thanks. any better??

I live completely unassembled and deconstructed (much like IKEA furnature without any instructions)

Leanne -
Better, but "reaches" isn't terribly exciting... could it poke or wriggle or something more active?

Callooh -

Leanne:

wriggle, poke, prod, pick, plunder....

sheesh!!

Leanne -
Oooh, plunder

No, radiates works well.

Callooh -

I could use a good plunder...

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