Shall
we journey, Love—that last hour, as adrift through eternity; to change a
thought, where love was vivid, as tiles were unattended. We’re looking at
greens and ham hocks and colors and visions, peering into something actual;
this type of gumbo, our mixture of meats, permeated with onions; for a swan is
near, feeling accuracies, flaming through territories: this fusion of souls,
this late grandparent, our slides into purgatory; to read for saints, as gifted
to truths, while life was worshiped. We shared a bagel, this cream-cheese of
lives, as pure as mother’s kiss; to fly to anger, for one was lost, while
another pined at windows; this breath of chaos, this fission of parts, this
type of broadcasting; to pet a cougar, or jar a firefly, while to chase a
coyote—as lost, Love, attempting to glamorize pain, where said absence has more
effects. I died a fire, this electric child, to wrestle an alligator; as pining
forgiveness, for something so vague, as to admit this flagrant passion: our
crawling elves, that session of selves, cringing as flying into help; to claim
this vest, as something therapeutic, as faltering at answers: this wealth of
threshes, this whip of slaves, this casual hell-tension. It had to breathe
life, this feral woman, while hungering for adventures. It’s a woman’s life, at
odds with men, for women float through dimensions; as born to live, while
challenged to survive, this cross by nature our clashing. I’m fettled as
frantic, gripping at bears, arranged as so to perish; but a daughter came, as
to clear confusion, while mother knitted a parachute; to love us more, as
fleeing through high seas, as casual as an aunts’ tears; where love is
brilliance, this type of Bald Eagle, a snail to a crow—to feature dynamics,
this daughter as angel, fragile at turns to live; that captive heartbeat, as
leaping through waves, while to feel a tsunami. We crave results, this moment
in passing, while effects plague our memories: that time is class, that school
carnival, that second mother was aloof; to sin by nature, this sought insanity,
where love dangled upon fragile wires—as deeply felt, where earth was shallow,
to have died that moment of fraternal kisses.
I must to shift, leering at shadows, as four in one person; this thing
of lightning, this signature scar, this beige in-between; to think as science,
why to love as priests, where contradictions ensue; this kef of diamonds, as
broken in pieces, to chisel a hardcore reduction. I love us more, athirst this timid admission,
as thus to perish thrice: at core a soldier, at heart a warrior, at mind a man
searching for love; to find this kiss, as bent on prose, to avoid that rich
encasement; where women soar, as feeling comforts, while men advert.
