I gave us diamonds, this present essence, spinning through portals: I gave us life, this visiting soul, as something reflective; to speed through lightning, to morph as thunder, this soaring wind; to fly as eagles, to phoenix this life, indebted to genealogies; that inner presence, this ghostly texture, at war with love: that reaching greatness, a maestro as swan, taking for giving this excitement. It lives, my Love: this force of souls, where I know your name; this pigeon as dragon, this griffin as sign, this crow following from dungeon to cities. We live it grayly, at truths for wars, as to challenge irrationality: this wild belief; that partial evidence; this reason to retreat; but life is essence, this type of substance, where many graduate the esoteric. I thought to give more, where fate was altered, while a computer went haywire; for something moves, traveling from land to seas—this month an omen of secrets: that borne chase; those gleaming eyes; this shaking through souls: that inner earthquake; that facial presence; those chills at conscious this light; to know inheritance, this merchant of souls, traveling through this matrix. We keep it quiet, to know this love, as reaching for this swanic heart: that cultic storm, this mystic fan, tiptoeing leaves; as something grand, this lot of Elijah, a prophet with honor. I love you more, this rare admission, but always this floating presence; to send us art, this spark of souls, at nuance this spike of prose; to call your name, as to say it clearly, this riddle at times a merchant; so see with souls, this fiery furnace, at times a bit too icy; indeed, a riddle, but twice a sight, as to focus on this thing. We gave us life, an aunty as seer, a family as holy; to spin through life, at needs to express—this inner wave. I’ll send a prayer, as hearts thump—this inner recognition; as floating through time, this space of swans, at love for your soul.
We’re going to an inner space.
