I
speak to you, to discern epiphanies, grounded to perish. Its dark the vision,
to visit the dervish, a cinema at a university. I feel for sorry, to know
without knowing, an inmost scale; where times are gray, to give forgiveness, a
paradise for images. Its distant love, an inner world, to hear your name. I
thought for parody, the trajectory of pain, to coddle selfhood; but there
aflame, the ignorance of love, to bathe a phantom. There’re academic woes, to fight experience,
to know for this plane: a blanket of scars, an anchor of tears, and a perfect
costume; where death is gray, to ponder for breath, as opposed to living. Its
opulent joys, to imbue a night, to awake in sorrows.
I think of life, the rites of grieving, to
feel a bit deeper; where naivety is anger, to see for geese, to lilt the
anguish. I love you moving, a woman
becoming, as quiescent as a fist-fight.
I laugh to think it, a portrait as a
lullaby, an ineffable countenance. We
die in etiquette, a social design, to harness the spunk. We’re earthenware, as resilient as skies,
the aesthetics of love; for this is inrush, a pearl for a friend, as
life-giving force; where hell is an unknown-self, streaming through souls,
siphoned from sugarcane.
I see you wheezing, to keep a
secret, to search out a panacea; and Alcatraz my soul, as photic asheartbeats, where face is grim, a sullen voltage, to affect the spirits; and women heard, to fence a protest, to
dig for deeper; where God heard, to stem a rapture, to test for souls; whereat is ashes, and spirit-tongues,
to toss the tarot-cards. I end in love, to caress a thought, to believe in angst—filled with tension; for this is
pride, to never the sight, to filter chi. We cross a road, to give in prayer, to feel the iceberg; where love is
trance, to blink and perish, to come to life.
