Let it breathe,
this person to persons, wishing for rights: this moon weaving, this traffic
lethal, our lights our rear-views (this cadence, this strange occurrence, I’ve done no wrongs), this vicious lie,
this tetras sex-par, our brave detriments.
Let it breathe, this sphinxly-elfin,
this fire-mountain, this Elijah-Elisha: as facing conflicts, resorting to inner
chambers, flicking for thumping this bump: our minds to blood-work; this
mystery Irish; this cagey sunshine—as blasted with liquor, to offend grandpa,
while lethal a dart our daughters: this grown comfort, this mechanic appeal,
this love as falling into regrets: our maniacs, this compound, those Feds—as
bleeding admiration, to cut with life, this agony as thought for freedom: if
but beauty, this template grieving, this anxiety to innocent souls: as long
coats, or temperature scarves, abased for fending [if but to fly]. I lied an angle: I forced to dying(s); I
laughed two seconds by a woman’s waist: if but as sung, this gunning mentality,
this impetuous building: our braining Greeks, this Africa with Love, this
Ethiopian our screams: if but to Europe, as sparked a feeling, peering at
unnatural sensations: our aggressive sex; our mortal marrow; this immortal legacy—where father laughs, a
true to life, forced for captured outwitting spirits.
Let it breathe,
this plural contract, our bodies to remote violence (those palpitations,
this one volt, this woman peeping for disgusted): as deep his guts, as laughed
his mother, as screaming, [T]here’s no
escape—we live as broken, this office unsafe, this car as fifth base: our
wives sensing, this uncanny intuition, while rubbing for mourning: this guilty
gut, this poodle panting, this deer to eyes as surprised to leap. I used to love, as sickness prevailed, where
others thought to genocide: our craved Empires, our Pharaoh’s resistance, this
edgy Samuel (as naïve beliefs, or actual existence, our daughters becoming
entities) this sun training, this mirror reclaiming, our deaths as portal
magicians). [I surrender, as treachery-reluctance,
filming homogeny—as mere a soul, or this fleeting man, where it felt good to
admire legacies: our agencies debating, this soul to new faces, this feature as
unrepressed: this motion fire, this psychologist water, this angle to feel for
goodness—that gray sky, this lover’s toil, our nights to Never again]!
Let it breathe,
this deep suspicion, this admission to vulnerability (those psychotic
features, this breath to distrust, this fountain removing its measure)—as
succeeding life, our sweaty necks, this forgery as becoming existence—where
bridges are similar, this routine, as never a thought to stitching innocence:
this retrieving castle, this inner drawbridge, this immaculate unicorn.
