there’s
a spaceship, by fluffy eyes, to pull him near; she knows a soul, to open fey,
this long goodbye; for hell’s beige, to ask for concrete, as sorted through
abstracts; to color heaven, wherewith, are pistols, a form of awnings. I cry a
trope, as good this tear, to unlock angels. we carry grayness, infused by
diamonds, a woman his mind; whereby, for manics, this type of tiptoeing. our
lakes bleed, to discolor geese, as pleased with fire. I love this passion, as a
form of dying, to take ease with life; but it couldn’t be—this inner bible, as
feeling Elijah; as full of complaints, therewith, her mind, as a strong pillar.
we gamble pain, to forfeit fear, as all night communion; whereat, are faces,
screaming through ceilings, something in this mirror! it couldn’t be us, as
terrified souls, wherewith, to push forward. it’s not easy, to lose for all, as
casting a blessing; but more this mind, this form of rajah, to clash through
frustrations; as all day blues, for an issue of gods, as greeted by mystics. I
laughed a fallin’ tear, to cup a woman’s soul, to fall where father stood. it
mustn’t be—this fortress of webs, afraid to exit; as with my life, this friend
of absence, courted through flames; in which, is essence, a fleet of ancestors,
craving expression; but how this soul, as fevered alive, to live it as yogis?
there’s a tribe, they call it Maori—this inward piano; to feel each key, as
becoming an orchestra, as filled with violins; wherewith, to dance, as a symbol
of love, featured in prayers. we crave to hear it—this tension turned fusion, a
colony of powers. we chime as dashing, to feel as felt, this world of
anomalies. we can’t but live it, as gripping tests, as measures of this life!
