Sighted as Terrific Tribulation (While to Outwit such Decadence)

I’m so young, sprung from pities, abused by dregs—as curious mules, abased at falls, trekking curtains—those cryptic creases, that pleat his brain, ashamed to have loved; this foolish pride, those years to shrimps, or fajita pies, as a daughter craved dimensions: this wounded woman; this feral jewel; our gems scraped and muddy: if but contentions, abrasive nonsense, as two at telic desires; to abate by chasing, this wealth by memories, as kissed this furious chi; where music watches, at fears to Beethoven(s), at dangers our ecstatic Mozart(s); insofar, our dellic cries, amused with sorrows, as tampering with gasoline: that hectic shift, to offset a monster, while at that that was sung: a chivalrous fool; that insane intellect; that madness striking temples—at life with love, at skies with dementia, at daughters our legacies; to ask by favor, this inner dream, as not to relinquish facts: this chasing by winds; those winged glens; this firebrand fever; to touch by voice, this level of terrors, as facial demons obey Spirit; that furry of vengeance, our behalves as shadowed, that psych speaking by tongues: those crossed arms, prepared by violence, to wiggle by captures: this grave invention, as contending with rules, this deadliness embedded in being a woman: that inverted line; those inner chemicals; those neurotransmitters; to effect a soul, as God forbids, this series of liquid concerns; as captured sky-flames, this petite storm, while challenged to forget—that level of insanity, at flashes in brains, this haywire camera—wherewith, this screaming portrait, that strata of faces, as chased from dregs to urban fires; where mother dies, as losing her seed, while wars tugged to break freedoms: that fluid insanity, this morbid insanity, those women too engrossed to breathe; as turned a soul, while churned in tragedies, our addicts living normality—if sought through tempers, as conditioned in pits, while afforded that wrenching compassion: our tattered hearts; out tethered prides; our tattoos bleeding mercies; as characterized caricatures, or terrorized philanthropists—our daughters enflamed paleontologists; or more psychology, attempting to flee, while at arms-reach our horrified dimensions; whereto, are dreams, seasoned in gumbo, while broiled in heartaches; to reach by claims, this faith of wings, allergic to several contagions: this fuel of arts, while gazing at elements, effected but tender this buoyant cross; insomuch, to perish, as losing our dreams, while faced with a settled horizon. It aches by bars, gnawing at beehives, at liturgies with butterflies: that humming scream, adrift our painted shrines, if but to feed a ghost. I echo this wave, to greet by intensity, this fading horizon: that reddish-orange; that bluish-aqua; that burgundy-glen; where love is forbidden, as becoming analytic, whiles haunted by love: that furious passion, as raging falderal, while pleasing by chase our reigns: our casual affairs, as dreaded cranes, while perfecting images: this trek by marsh; our souls to arcs; our days to seething with intentions. I’ll harness a memory, but a kettle whistling, at balloons those wretched moments; where dementia settles, as formed in violence, while a psych roamed his island; to picture a profile, as missing links, while too bold to admit chasms; or more a visage, at wars with facts, while claiming uncertainties: this cave through doubts, as won by clarity, to outwit those rules by humans; where left mean deception, while right means sincerity, as yawning denotes a secret. We vine this wave, to churn our sparks, alive at seconds concerned with breathing: that terrible sorrow, as embedded gems, fleeing for flying by St. Frances; this intimate confetti, as mystic shovels, at arms to reach a fellow human—as graphed deeply, our similar woes, at churns our infant sights.