Mourning Brought a Joyous Thought

I feel us—going haywire, pending this collapse; to see this feeling, while grimaced sorely, afraid to confess love; this stationed star, where gremlins dwell—our elves as fantasies; to climb a bar, pulling for dear life, as aware of fatal attraction; this sight for fools, as close disasters, parting this third brain. I love us musing, as confused about purpose, standing near a lotus garden; that deep feng shui, those purple eyes, that tendency to wail through, Prince. We know for mercy, while enthralled by filth, that zone of happiness; to achieve virtue, through something impure, this wave of frantic sex. It couldn’t be life, this feeling within, as fire blinking in dark rooms; this case of peasants, as to feel this face, at large from a feeding wound. Our fingers stink, that scent of cloves, centered as a piece for mocking: these fuchsia dreads, that auburn tent, those arks born to minds; where doves flee, as not to return, while we search for dry lands. I must retreat—this wealth of scars, if merely to utter a silent sentence; that course whisper, as engraved in brains—a bit too forward to speak. It couldn’t be love, but more for prose, this thing we must decide; if not for pleasure, but rather for closure—this land of Zelda. I sought for reigns, this earlier mishap—so infused as to fail; but now for love, as to never taste, the breath of this garnet wine. Our years have fallen, to endless doubts, too charged to admit such pulls; but never those lights, as running from spirits, to stand while heaven falls our contours; this cache for fools, as uttered softly, this painting of God. I love us pausing, to wander so closely, as to cast fear to geese: that mauve duck; that frantic squirrel; those pigeons bathed in pink paint; to realize itching, our nerves abused, sitting in meditative thoughts. It couldn’t be real, to meet intuition, as to know consciousness: this field of fruits, this vineyard of love, a bit to chaff to speak. I’ve died this art, a lemur to a tree, swinging branch to soul.