he’ven’s lasting travels (in dual time)

he’ven’s admitting the old pressure doors
like calibrations marching through the woods
if this were that point in dual time
we would walk off the pageantry for oil
Highland marksmanship and forecast innovation
too scared to chase down a lasting resolution
the memories do not toy with your fractured travel
pages where remedial divisions of rewards douse margins
sail with a market’d tool driv’n to full populace lungs
if only he’ven would appoint us passage markedly