Picture Rockets by Touch

Its cold mornings, gesticulating, our windows rattling:  Its presence, this curse, fraught by blessings: Its life, this miracle in us, this controversial attraction: at wonders, to wander that frame, too fetching for faint hearts.  I rev adolescence, gleaning for perfections, extinct at several directions: I ache crimson, by frustrated angst, a tear tepid disrupting traits: this ravished soul, loving by vanity, cagey concerning allure: this picturesque garden, those deceptive ferns, our fens to flights enchanted by seconds: to study rightness, to hold for closure, to imagine this static affair: our concrete hopes, by an abstract colony, painting for remoteness—as acclaimed in thoughts, this inner excellence, while wrestling with shattered dreams.     (I posit essence, this aesthetic masterpiece, albeit, vile, as sinking into sullenness: our radical admissions, this fresco illusion, a body so kleptic resisting ownership.  I adore mystics: I shadow yogis: I ponder this gray nuance—where thoughts are ramped, where fears manifest, this ‘thing’ about trusting humans with our brains: this steep incline, those magical feathers, those foreign eyes: our thoughts flustered, our women sinking, this warfare becoming our existence: those footlights, those palm-prints, those fingers at piano in a stranger’s cabinets.  I wanted affections, as needing acceptance, to realize an ostrich finds comforts: this acrobatic, this misprinted gnome, this misleading personification; for Love seems raw, a lover by deaths, to yank for tugging while biting deeply: our casual fantasies, as pulled to works, this petal ushering in romantic inclinations.  I rinse daily, at shower-time a dulcet voice, reaching for symbolic melodies: to have us closer, divorcing our names, while debating misnomers—as cut to soul, or souls for cut, to conjure by needs this radiant utopia).     I had this love, as bought through phantasms, this electric phantom: those protruding hips, those sweaty muscles, those petite arms; insofar, a dream, while seeking Ethiopia, to dine a second that Korean mystic: those inner kimonos, this vexing European, our challenges to support Africa: those thoughts rabid, our emotions controversial, this feeling as extravagant a stranger.  I pour affections, to remote our controllers, while voiced as one that’s passive-aggressive—to deepen by truths, this parental relationship, rapid at fire this deep aberration: that subtle attitude, as met with nonchalance, while expected that all issues are subject for debate: this cheap respect, if thought thoroughly, where one is free to do close to anything: as, nonetheless, this feral attraction, while purposed for losing sanity: that beige skirt, adorning chiseled calves, revealing elegant knees; indeed, this man to romance, as opposed to crudeness, while conditioning a woman to perfect unto resentments: this thin bridge, sparking cigars, while quieting merlot; while, moreover, Love is paranoid, inspected at each clock, where ticking(s) have become torments.  I imagine ping-pong, by liquor shots, while immersed within: that edgy soul, sipping for ravishing, exuding pure passion: that woman laughing, while subdued internally, to awaken while regrouping: that frightening task, where affectation loves, this exempt soul proving humanity; where brains explore, this flood of ‘transmitters, our women immersed unto glowing by configuration: this holy encounter, our hearts beating, this exchange of universal volts: thrusting for yanking, as gentle incipience, to peak at a rate close to heart-attacks; furthermore, this poetess ticking, this moment evolving, this rapture sinking: wherewith, are abrasions, our Junoesque motifs, this particular theme revolving other persons—at adoration for decades, to purchase a cheetah pup, while playing danger petting a baby cub: this deep transmission, this feeling by excellence, as, nevertheless, we wrestle with failed relations: this beating kettle, this drumming guitar, our harps resounding to destruction—where essence becomes vice, as vice becomes security, while pantomime emotions explode.