…those
richer habits, those torn regrets, something special, something unique: our
raging eyes, our inner noises, such mental animation: this cartoon world, our
cartoon lullabies, our afternoon meal-shakes: pondering baby wolves, or petting
mental cubs, or taming an interior bear: such mirror gossip, aligned with spiders,
and swatting webs: at miracle emotion, considering such volcanoes, perceived
but un-believed: those cheery tears, those cheery yelps, to have intimate
disaster: those films flickering, those hearts raving, at casual star-glances:
if but our lives, this scratch and sniff, at liquid or substance: those
marathon cries, those marathon eyes, giddy over Claudette: this mythical
creature, and rightfully so, in this world filled with wolverines: thereabout,
those speaking leaves, our deciduous passion, our laughing islands….
I
met Superwoman, I watched Batman, I reminisced feeling justice: those interior
wells, those interior lakes, to siphon soon more reality: our deep
windbreakers, our souls floating away, our channels increasing intensity: such
rubescent roses, to purchase meaning, by something so significant: at
appropriate music, at air-sockets, or electrical padlocks: to pick gently, to
unwrap sentiments, to get so close it aches: that inner coach, our wafting
Agnes, our members haywire: thereto, those small gestures, as building a
castle, and trespassing sandstorms.
…we
get sad, simply through arts, our interior taking its presence: such deep
resistance, such vintage emotion, while tried and treasuries: our narrated
existence, this mystery reading our behaviors, while altering based upon our
reactions: such Freewill, such exoneration, whereby, we need something
excellent: such high intelligence, such irrefutable diligence, at tears
condemning our wits: our perfect souls, at an imperfect assembly, while ruined
without proper notion: at fair deliverance, or gila-conflicts, while running
and needing ownership….
…at
blackhead irritants, picking our memories, feuding our dreams: those distant
reptiles, those evolving feelings, to plan something excruciating: our welted
existence, our beauties with joy, our toads streaming our veins: at mythical
reality, or holding to Promise, at something quite resistance: as just for
tyranny, at pitted value, our volume increasing with aches: such pressure with
creativity, such power with loses, or pure logos
with rain: if but by breath, if but by alterations, if but by something resting
dormant…..
