We
prize wit, ever to aspire, to trust for knowledge. I see you,
to
classify life, a certain expectation. It’s incumbent, for
winds
to shift, where fallacies are precluded. I drift.
A
clock is painting. It speaks of love, a tender love, founded
in
friction. There’s a knock, featured in a caption, “Pursue
Your
Love.” I hassle over grays, to muse a scarf, sorely
threshed.
A lantern tips, an unknown storm, even a basin of
fusions.
I slumber, to live a collar, ever to strut and struggle;
and
droplets rise, to conjure your name, a necktie of woes.
Wherefrom
a feather, to tickle abstract thoughts, to whisper,
“I
see you”; for we’re a chamber, an acre of hopes, fallin’
asleep.
I’m stenciled, a lost design, a neighbor’s collage;
where
words are threshed, feelings etched, palms screaming,
“Ink.”
I’m
sad for ethics, plus, hard to fathom, an uncovered silence.
Such
seams and thread, pregnant with life, so young to see.
It
was broken, a home for verse, a curse for tones. I wrote
for
ballads, to disappear, soon to pierce a rearview. It was all
addiction,
quick to baffle, sinning laughter.
Something
electric, to pull a psyche, a piano of woes. So more
for
ruth, to utter pain, surrounded by angst. Such smoke, a
murky
cloud, to form a thought. To
witness such strife,
a personal
cliff, to stress a mirror. It’s more a dirge, ever to
see,
found in a stranger’s life. So please forgive, a subtle
death,
to tickle a soul.
I
barely new self, ever high, cleaving to a Ghost. Every pulse,
a beat
for pain, to glance a peaceful sight. I smiled at poodles,
to
hear a bark, a heart to thump. Life was rainbow trials, a
sphere
of vines, to ski for rain; and there for love, a spool of
gems,
to hush a panicked heart.
It’s
more a dream, a silent scar, to wreck a soul; where voice
is
lost, to groom a grave. I mourn for light, to silence friction,
where
grit is apropos. I remind us twice, to see a person,
thoroughly
frustrated; else, we falter, stuck for self, offended
with
rain. It was ever alarms, to seek academy,
struggling
through ghettos, where many flourish, to steady
perish,
eyes bloodshot red.
