We
find it hidden, some sort of want, preaching keenly. He
saw
a woman; and then a spirit; and then a woman. It was
Ping-pong,
even a game-table, and more an inner eye. Its
threaded
danger, a different life, captured in webs. He
ventured
a sight, to pose as human, where ships have sailed.
She’s
illusion, an unreal reality, posed in metaphysics. He
races
yonder, to pet a thought, an inner voice; but all is
silent;
and he knew not. It’s a kind affront, even a yes and
no,
vetted in illusion. Both are liquid, a subtle rain, to
trickle
through breath. He leapt for abstract, ten years
behind,
a board of gambits. She’s there a mountain, to tillage
earth,
to rattle confusion. He’s sudden a thought, to see a
pattern,
where branches bend; for it’s never cold, and never
warm,
where Ephesus speaks for warm. How to fathom, a
dual
vibe, leaning on Robert Green? It doesn’t apply, for
different
waves, gnawing at petroglyphs. It’s more the music,
a
tad bit choppy, to spark for simultaneous. He found A and
not
A, where laughter perished. He sits to disappear, an inner
vine.
Something gives, a pressure for mind, a person colony.
