Seeing sights softly, at winded
frustrations, our wrists at convulsions—as seething chaos, or speaking
legendaries, at terrors petting lions: those spidery thoughts, lingering for
falling, appalled by legacies—as Cartier memories, or psychotic faces, fueled
for laughing at wakes with ghosts: this field bleeding, our cotton fingers, as
resorted to economic resources. [I love
this you, so distant a scar, while surfing private quarters]. I awake, screaming, therewith, a nudge, at
tyrannies pleading forgiveness: this inner you, at secrets those sessions, to
find with agonies our truest investments: to souls beaming, those weekend
ecstasies, at livid matrimonies—this place bleeding, as a sentence to die,
while pardoned this inner sanctum—as more confused, where realities clash, our
mosaics denoted as self-delusion. I heard
love, this trapeze falling, while orchestrated a solid venture; this curse
wailing, as seizing intestines, that countenance tormented—where breath is
disordered, as passions flush orgasms, whereas, it felt good to disobey: this
song at repeats, this woman as Caesar’s harlot, our dreams to perfect
loyalties. I chased for rising, to feel
this feature, a man to rooms feeling akin to, Prince; indeed, our cranberries,
those blueberry textures, that ruby red rose—at courses flooded, infused a
scream, to want for it appealed to psychoses: that flower bleeding, those
thorns digging, this shrubbery bearing witness; thereto, are rivers, this Nile
bathing Ethiopians, our essence wounded with intentions—to die laughing, our
martyrs seeking glory, this vest as strangled unto everlasting insanities. [I hailed to see you, this fire flushing, to
evolve as hating you: that miracle dysfunction, our worlds lost, typing for
dreaming seething this illusion]; hereupon, sketching this image, where bodies
are insecure—as vulnerability, or tender affections, choking for bawling while
laughing, It hurts. I saw Jamaica, as fleeing to Jerusalem, at
science by mentals to Europe: our calypso liquids, our Dior dreams, this
Versace suitcase—as tormented, sailing, to cry your aches, at pleasures to have
lost such reality; this psychotic self, as fused to majesties, a socket
sparking letters to your name. Its cold
a scream, leering at buttocks, while to imagine stretch-marks; to kiss each
fever, afflux with passion, nibbling for biting while suckling blood. Oh for warmth, as cold a vision, to tare with
dying: this crowded loneliness, at furious sky-weather, to forage for failing
while laughing at delusions—this miracle science, to float but dreams, while
able to tap existence that mystery: those shivering palms, our charisma
weaving, at whispers to imagine, Isaiah: this fixed mentality, while bathing in
dung, to push for eating while rebuking saintliness: that picture cringing, as
melting in flurries, at pulse to touch debating our essence. I die this you, as never able to sin, while
sinning, nonetheless—at frantic textures, this scene as livid, to expose with
life this human feather—as remorse would scream, while active at infractions,
to pretend with life that pain shall decrease.
Oh for passions, as laughing his mind, as oh for furious women—that
Agnes Feminist, that colored Womanist’s, at remarks censoring those female
Atheists—this life as incredible, to suffer such joys, while pleading our
un-blemished institutions—while Naïve languishes, for wanting such seconds, to
have for irony such maniac copulation; indeed, to shames, this inner
theologian, this man years afore a mental Rake—to cut with precision, this
woman at laughter, to grip for dying yanking at his aches.
It could to mercy, as living in sessions,
to find with time our seasons to pass; as resorting to pleasures, this intense
vixen, as pure a martyr debating our notions: if but a scream, as skin was
gnawed, this flux of self, (our fluids at outbursts): that florid moon; that
realized sun; our angst at bay while motions are monstrosities: that beige
agony, that furious dream, our souls to psychotic women; that space he died,
that vestibule she cried, our priests but humans gnawing at deaths.
