I know your smile, with life this smile,
ailed for haunted as smiles; this luxurious sorrow, pelted by dreams, as casual
as sunlight. I ache your heart, as
silent constrictions, our paths paved for battleships; this intricate smile, as
harmonious bliss, while purposed a saber’s tooth. Its hearts to waves, as caves to brains,
pondering exclusive vaults: such privileged literature, such chaotic warfare,
those smiles by sun-tears. We laugh by feelings,
aching by tendencies, at mirrors disguised while bathing in shivers; this
ghostly trench, our murky brainstorms, this woman as fractions of herself: to capture
with time, those candid lights, our interlocked palms. I hear that smile, but particles of this
land, swimming through muddy skies—that lost coyote, seated in trimmers, enough
to nigh steadily: that agonizing grin, those lines to elation, our deaths prone
to resurrections. I felt this laugh,
seeping into justice, pleading its dissatisfaction—where children cringed, as
sliced by reality, to exist through this tenfold feeling. I fed a squirrel and died to sins and cried
for love; this twirl at roses, by washed reigns, to palace with life a soaring
smile: those wishless trefoils, as casting blessings, to fire with science this
faint beginning: our enrooted selves, this endless baseline, our fundamental
differences—as claiming adult feelings, while conditioned by adolescence, this
war for lilies splayed as particles. I
see your smile, as segregated silence, to sit as a mere portrait: those acrylic
eyes, those protruding veins, this concupiscent gaze—if but to live, smiling
sincerely, that ravishing wind at heart-skies.
I remember smallness, or concrete lamps, seated in mother’s den. I remember laughter, as sudden a miracle,
such by snores to realize aliveness; as cats lathe, this clawing of furniture,
our declawed ambitions. I sense a smile,
this lavish portrait, as studied at surfaces: that stormy cave, that genuine
chuckle, this space returning to its childhood: such violet cloud-work, by
religious science, reading, Dialectics: this
outer mental, embroidered in faces, as but an entrance this life: those steep
trances, as musical museums, this pain for matching puzzles. I know your smile, so gentle to kittens,
while suspicious about unstated agendas: that infant toy-box, that green
reptile, that rug chasing its corners—as mother soars, peering at velvet
horizons, at once, a moonish smile; albeit, this life, cuddled by realities,
thrust through by characteristics: this trait in men, as founded cultures,
while amazed by sustaining breaths; as, notwithstanding, this precious smile,
reamed for ironed, this faceless voice-storm.
I see pictures, this array of friendships, this rapture seasoned with
love: that streaming passion; those lasting successes; this brain at tethers a
mere stranger—as born at light, engulfed by darkness, at love this paradoxical
smile.
