A solo solar halo, crushed and crazed, clashed a reckless piece of haze, a cloud, slashed of prism-colored flash of feckless arc, fell together,
And crashed an annoyingly indifferent sea,
Then,
A solo drop of pulchritude bucking vast-stretching tide, spraying ocean’s cross current, slides,
As Venus, of crass cooper slop bucket dropped, slopping ebb, ebbing slop, in disarray,
Appealing disarray, hair disheveled in braiding crosslet winsome flotsom jetsam flippant flipper way,
Venus of the cruciform half shell bride, of crossed stars.
Hairs crossed to display, on a starry night,
Slapped sloppily along the bottom, at morning being birthed, at midday on a wedding night, and evening, giving birth, to high tide and low,
Events, of, buckets of love thrown upward,
Venus, in all events, the haphazard stars in her eyes slap of sloppy loneliness she’d be and see:
How crosses would be used, to spin
Divide and conquer
Pull Christ toward dishonor
A drip is the slap of her love, a drop in a cup of couplet, is Venus, her beauty stinging. She’s crucified a pearl– oyster opalescence, stinging, string of pearls mother-of-pearl’s neck snapping oyster shell open, ringing rain drops of beryl, a pearl a drop, benediction and slow drip,
Venus, mop bucket in hand, she sees herself age,
Sloppily slopping… Sloping…
… Towards ugliness, resentment and rage, panting rage, drop cloth, and shroud, brushes with death on a bucket list of–
Shame?
Spam of Human Affection 
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