Faces

It must exceed, this beauty of love, in time to manifest, pictured as brilliance, this inner kiss, fluxed through promise our brains; faced by madness, gleaning from oak, this measure of cavalry—this distant glare, pushing velocity, as casual sensations; to know your brains, ingested by hearts, to capture but a fraction of this love.  I appeared a youngling, staring at perfection, too raw to breastfeed—where closets held demons, as history held cults, while grandmother set a mystic pace; I knew for eternity, too wise to settle, too dumb to be wise; where mother gave ghosts, this vital afflux, as to auction off her son’s soul.  We cremated dolls, a box filled with needles, while to despise our heritage. I came for riddles, seeing fixations, this tiny woman in trance: flinching, tugging, wincing, as racing through timeless affections; this star by chants, this Elohim, this pressure to exceed existence; this philosophic, to measure what proceeds, at hauntings to define essence; as what comes first, this egg or person, flitting where demons roam; this buoyant voice, crashing through soundwaves, piercing a young swan’s soul.  I know our minds, to know our selves, chasing this luminous force—as catered by deaths, in order you maintain, to feel through grace this esoteric; where lances plunge, digging as rooted, this face our ancient abilities—to find for life, this person that was, at deep contentions with this thing that is; while treading, though traipsing, in opposite directions, pulled asunder, crafted through ills, pregnant with three affections; that space his brains, groping walls, affected this affliction; to know your face, a fraction of this chi, to thump as to retreat.  I loved your voice, so steady at trembles, that infant shaking, as cold to light, this shivering fever, standing at our podium; I loved your heart, at random this night, seated in electricity; I saw your arms, reaching for closure, through so many tears.  I’ve died to love you, where such came by ease, otherwise, as fleeting as seaweeds; to untangle ankles, fleeing through waves, at peace but a second of madness; where time is evasive, steady at approach, to pause by moment that deep enchant; where terrors struck, this sudden entity, a manifestation of brains; to commandeer, while alive with rites, to come to that breakthrough.  I speak of riddles, chills to hearts, this facial expression; to utter such wars, those degrees of chills, to influx terrors; as reason perishes, to know this thing of minds, our inners manifesting outwardly; this thing of souls, dying where parents dwelt, a fragment of a phantom’s inheritance; to come to madness, pleading for entrance, at sudden, his eyes for closed; to love as furnace, this petal to stem, fleeing as colorless.