(Maybe
our tragedies, to assume that person, this freezer by curses—as sheer design,
or haphazard music, while curled in multiple knots): that organ grieving; that
mental slant; our inheritance—while born through tears; either love or woes;
this false dichotomy; (our contrite tunnels; our blissful tragedies; this fire
by storm as optimal)—to send for courage, as to awaken grayly, that treasure a
nudge lethargic: this person as intrusion; this person as mirrors; this sense
of disconnection—(where cravings conflict, this center as orbits, or more this
fleeting mirth)—to come to portraits, our eyes with rivers, agaze by beauty;
where passion cringes, as towards our mirrors, while at joys this withering
forest: (as more sensations; or reaper thoughts; as religious atheists)—to
courage by venture, such chaotic orders, to wander by arts this paradox: our
rich accounts, or maybe for bankruptcy, or maybe this void of images; to love
that smile, while extracting strengths, to hug by mercies that force: (as shorn
our souls; or wimbled our minds; while we attempt to define existence): at
search that correlation; or soft that universal;
to transcend by waves something trite; as crushed at seasons, or near a
sky-wail, where cycles become excruciating. (I feel detached, to have chased
dispositions, to have jarred butterflies: our colored eyes, our mourning
fingers, as more this tinge to prose; or more a poem, at dear desires, as rare
that correlation; to perish by grace, drawing our faces, racing through every
line); while gaining age, this inner discussion, as forming his countenance:
that squared lake; that fluid dryness; that spaceless sky; to caress a dove, as
more conditions, watching as winds push doors—to hear that slam, as rattled in
cages—this open space. (I’m running by fasts,
a shadow to chalk, our stark afflictions—to come to terms, attempting to
keep her, at wells this leaping); where souls flourish, this cryptic light,
wrestling by definitions: this inner torpedo; that calm nothingness; that
spasmatic ripple beneath that surface: without comforts, aside for concentration,
to become haywire with nearness. (I’m treading parallels; I’m walking planks;
I’m avoiding untruths); as one to live, even as to perish, by chance to have
found joy; or this semblance of light, this rich honeymoon, at practice that
fire.
