derive of environs

dilate marinated spirals of beach glass. brooms of witches and warlocks in star-hawks wing. she asked me to become the nun that kneels through the night. with defiance i sipped and slept and dreamed what he was thinking so that we could know without a whisper. the iris was never the wiser nor poorer for the refusal. why then the disciplinary passiveness when my passion flies east instead of west. why do i still disappoint when you already threw me away. how do we inspire others to move forward so they will cease to limit us. how can they accept that i was on that pirate ship in that bottle upon her shelf. the lesson being that the only reason i am here to tell this tale. swimming in pure spirits: melting the chains of tears & employing the middle finger. a well-paid finger indeed.