Could
you love me; this mystic soul—so filled with traumas? Would you see me, as
filled with fires—this storm of aloofness? I tremble to ask, as wanting
eternity, with something so fleeting; those casual flings, that distant
possession, always searching out fires. I see a legend, this existential, with
a flair for grayness. I hear a phoenix, those ashes forming, to manifest a new
woman: those anxious deaths; that courage to live; that seductive heartprint. I
feel skyflame; I absorb dryrain; I’m everso close to rescue. It becomes
love—this pragmatic slant, as torn by fields this chi; to rapture at pain, that
inner agony, wailing out instructions: this dying man, as life to womb, a bit
frantic over nothing; that child’s play, screaming obscenities, where life is
motion; to harvest regrets, as never letting go, while Love dances afar. I know
a name—this distant address—so casual that lethargic response; as such for
cadence, this beautiful misery, as something so important. I caught a glance,
and then a yawn, a then seduction; as beauty is wearisome, provoking yawns,
where we cry it as deception; this method of control, to yank with violence,
while tugging that lifeforce. We ballet to pain, as to exploit remnants,
attracted to danger: that medium figure; that extended neck; those calves that
spine that yelp; as casual love, awaiting ages, as roots prove for aesthetics.
I could to cry, as reeling through guilt—this ecstatic feature; but this is
crime, that furious blackmail, as love is eternal: that skipping heart; that
violent volt; those seconds at peace with self; to forsake death, this immortal
yearning, as becoming noble friends. I see our sun, that autumn horizon—those
legs shaved that scar; to dig too deeply, this frantic spurt, as lives clash
with justice; to want for terms, as terms would die, to force a broken promise:
that inner piano, playing our tune, alas, that favoritism; where colors storm,
as cultures rive, this schism pushing probability; as long to perish, while
long to live, this paradox of fusions; to cry at lies, while raging at truths,
where love could never die.
