We
forge images, while forgetting images, as exclaimed that privy palace—to break
brains, as welding chains, our mothers vying for control: that Spanish wedding;
those African brooms; our inner fiestas—where tetras lives, this welting of
boulders, our pieces flushed debris—as cadent wisdom, as flew his arc, while at
love this ferocious innocence: our inner grannies, as wailing at walls,
offended by mirrors: that song-fire, our attire bleeding, those Prada
terrors. I could, my Love; as spaced a
soul, our bones rejecting marrow: that furious whisper; those furious psychs;
this one-sighted dilemma—as birthed through sin, at wars through sins, at
claves through channels—that ghostly ache, those tickling prickles, that whoosh
to living-rooms—as told we died, that sudden laughter, as shocked for amazed
that resurrection. I forgot mirrors,
while teasing mirrors, as lives this vile expression: that gristle curse, that
inner ventriloquist, this hankering for love as thought immortal—that fowl aflame, that phoenix adrift, this inner
kleptomaniac—as torn for paired, or paired for violent, or violent for calmness—that
kiss bleeding, our webs as confused, this fusion as debated in furies. We become, Love; this man as trespasses; so
abused he breathes with courage: that infant crawling; that filthy oasis; our
valleys by deaths purported for evilness;
to clench as dying, to whisper as crying, to tug for pulling while
rejecting intimacies: that cold fever, our inner oceans, this cup of oxygen—if
but to die, this wind at cages, but never we perish—as adrift a current,
filtered for framed, as forgetting his mirrors—that revolving glass; that
ceiling staring; this inverted us; as mother laughed, to provoke embarrassment,
to encourage obedience—this mockery of fools, our David Paradises, our Solomon
legacies—that myriad blinking, this found refugee, our psychs at courage
infused with research—as humans perish, this spectrum of numbers, our
independent variables: as clashed his life, to offend through pressures, a bit
offended with treacheries—as opposed to treacherous beauty, to possess
catastrophes, as bleeding he lived aflame.
We become, Love; that rabid calmness, this undying affinity—that lived
an ache, as scarred for destroyed, while dropping from skies: this vex
screaming, our fathers as rabid, our mothers as deeply occasioned—to love but
cotton, as smeared by filth, to relax a moment to kindness: this inner text, as
but a ringing phone, our therapists laughing at inanities: to cry his life,
while nudging by degrees, to plant for weapons this curse. I saw Swanships, aloft an empire, fraught by
illustrations: that furious music, this classical art, our Grecian
infinities—as traveled to Spain, but a trip to cities, as effused tripping his
liquor: that sober nightmare; those drunk philanthropists; that priest a bit
tipsy that nun—as exploding silence, our parts to brains, this meal as livid
tyranny—to pardon his life, that inch by escapes, to courage his symphony: that
red cadenza; that blue aria; that beige opera—where Love peers, as watching
comedy, a tear to heartcaves: if but to fly, our aches so rich, to invest as we
have never existed: this bold deluxe, this watch reversed, our ageless youth. I’m buffing mirrors, to remember deaths, this
thought that silence means contentment—as frantic to return, to slam a
cocktail, to be tossed to and fro: this music she lived, as claustrophobic, a
child too much for Satan: that inner belief, our closets by memories, this
running from self committing similar acts: those new traumas, as compounded
deeply, where mother nourishes as producing a nightmare. I’m buffing mirrors, as demolishing mirrors,
those shards—those thousand faces [as faceless a dream, while faithful to
faces, this faceless mystic—as steep his brains, this revote for clearance, our
personhood as plebian(s); to courage a swan, while revolving sea-storms, at
tyrannies concerning this vex at terrors—those
gray mirrors, as barely an image, to induce an inner tsunami: that psych
sensing, this particular feature, as pulling by subtleties—to know those
thoughts, as invested in science, where closure becomes this carnival of facial
clowns].
