If Could To Locate

…to beg forgiveness, as sinning dreams, while provoked to scream obscenities: this mechanic difference, our Atlantic travails, this shade as multifaceted: our seconds to hubris, our arrogant ferns, this daisy tipsy by sherm-leafs.  (I died feeling lusts, while contained as unfired, losing for reaching to pardon gods: this kleptic body, this silent secretary, our captive psychs—as dreamt by curses, to force our responses, where nonchalance speaks to heroin).  We live as lights, suffocated for breathing, pillaged for priestly: our professor nuns, our catholic atheists, this Jewish catastrophe: as mother appears, veering through comforts, peering at see-through moods: this quintescent face, those ravishing verbs, this inability to articulate life: our child explosive, as coming with time, as such, a feeling akin to strangers.  (I know monsters, this colorful uniform, those trespasses—as blank a sore, to adore pensiveness, whereat, this steep disjunction: our blinking skies, this formal address, that anxiety with this need to transform: our angry nests, our scarred stars, this fume bleeding its designers.  [I examine lakes, at fully those disadvantages, to realize this need to reject: our cryptic arcs, this fire as deceptive, this moon as ashamed—where father chances, this dance with leopards, fueled for framed a scar by fires: our cultic brains, this mental vehicle, our Porsche stuck at neutral]).     (Tales for hells as taught.)     I could to lie, as unaffected, where torments revere mirrors: our achy witness, while kissed a villain, dependent sorely upon our working compass: to aim for fawning, if but for brooks, while one remains an offense to society: or treasured more, this vessel for disdain, if but to imbue a fallen vase.     [I change essence, to redeem character, while scribbled as a possible threat: but this is normal, as never for normal, where suspects are received as demented—this client within, this mental customer, our clerks triggering behavioral patterns: to know for language, this cut to souls, while looking for staring amazed at disposition].     I season colorfully, as passive confidence, at pleasantries veering through graphics: our nights to wonders, our days at desks, our mornings at praise: if but this angle, our angular scars, as never a mention to creativity: these checks for balances, those dreads by waist-length, this inner Ezekiel—to love inheritance, spewing at traffic, absorbed by Sirach.     (I feel as priests, examined for wounds, at love for this beauty in gods: this goddess flipping, this soul scraping, our balance as channeled for disasters: this local sun, those foreign constellations, this cross table disdain: as comforts scream, placing to life inveiglements, while intellect resorts to far greater trespasses: this scudding volt, this inner hydroplane, this terrible subterfuge—as elated artifices, or damaged heart-tenders, this currency as alive a dark embrace—where never we thought, this courage to swans, while a dove ravished a shark.  I blank out, wherefore—he spoke, as far too much attention to secret altars).         

      

I’m losing ground, while gaining admiration, where said admiration has this inner noose: our years as slaves, inverted at harvest, peering at turquoise eyes—as sober feelings, or intoxicated deception, where said Love becomes scientific: this distant feeling, this living curse, this fantastic catastrophe, (this inverted mirror): to ache his bones, to ponder resilience, to wonder of that terrific mother—as but for tension, or more a vacuum, whereat, we examine our wilderness brains.     I’m sunk about shocked, condemned for writings, while, all the more, at treasures for accurate truths: this laughing agony, to feel with suspicion, while Love aches an inner poltergeist…as moving fast, to miss a future, whereat, this woman at tears we love.     I live at halves, or more this Bark, our Branches representing inner contagions: this will to fly; this will to lose; this furious fever demented through mazes: as lives a friend, as never thought a friend, to curse with lights an inner emotion: this fragrant odor, this luxurious odor, this scent blasted into cosmos…as sat alone, an empty room, captured by visions!