…those
island cries, those invertible eyes, some design so crucial: at chemistry,
laboring for passion, so sick about exclusivity: such palmer-wood, such hectic
demands, such mahogany flesh—at dynamite lies, so simple to die, so incredible
to resurrect: as going through life, wrapped in chains by life, revved about a
shapely goddess: those red skies, those gray clouds, while sirens blare
attached to clocks: such toil and death, such riving hearts, at clarinet
empires: that trumpet blast, those triumphant thighs, at this redeeming face—to
drop sanity, this future in brimstone, those sagic lullabies—while pain was
pleasant, this inclusive universe, those reddish brown leaves: so sick with
angst, our stomachs rumbling, those darts those hidden aches: as adores our
crevice, this sacred mountain, looking for imperfections….
…it
was their school, this math in etiquette, those saintly hurdles: while divorced
from silence, but silent, nonetheless, our dreams speckled with oracles: such
violent pull, such destructive tugs, our rasp to iron: staring at kimonos,
undressed afore a shoji, our dreams cuddled in vases: to know for attraction,
to drift about moons, to ensoul a newborn songstress: our guts churning, our
rain pausing, our actress dancing—those black wantons, those loveable arms,
those open diaries: as written twelve years ago, this unconditional touchstone,
those refurbished mirrors: to shadow our pride, our trips to stars, our pleats
by seduction: as pulled insights, yanked and crucial, pleading silken
orisons—that peach rose, those trimmed shrubberies, those glassy lands: as
pushing through death, a bit siphoned by admiration, yawning and sipping
coffee: our monster instincts, our clandestine fires, something secluded,
shared with art, and threshing our rationality: this first petition, this last
sunshine, so indebted to pathos—our
fluffy drums, our roaring saxophone, as never something taking our breath: that
whirling halo, upon a similar sinner, while winning flowers…such sun-width
breath, to exhale divinity, as shimmers unstoppable pangs….
I
like you; something so simple; something so electric: as realizing you, those
small eyes, or tarsier bravery: this leaping motor, those flaming tentacles, so
faraway greeting our mornings: our magic tree, our distant cries, our relic
diamonds: our color wheel, our stale rice, our days fraught by desperate
spells: such moldy fungi, such remarkable whispers, a man smitten by danger:
those masterful trysts, those mushrooms to brains, or plain gifts for
loneliness: this treacherous region, our souls yanked asunder, our confidence
wading through havoc: our parent trees, that pet jerboa, or months abased and
feeling outcast’d: this rich inheritance, this richer woman, while feeling
alone crowded by family: to sense indifference, to become vicious, to glance
over at prose: this dire romantic, those high cheek islands, those incorrigible
cries—at motive with trillions, as selected for gurneys, so close to living
again: at bull sharks, at hyenas, but never an octopus: those longing gestures,
or redeemable literature, or hairs running through mirrors: at NARS with pride,
or delicate palms, too sensitive to challenge a word: this man’s shame, this
man’s poetry, our souls locked and gunning—if but to lose, or but to win, while
rescued from society: our chancing pupils, while riding tigers, our swords
pointed northbound: as young doves, or adult swans, where stages have tugged
our lungs: at mere a toe, at mere dynamite, sipping mandarin tea: (if but
reborn hips, if but our first challenge, as tides sprinkle by moons: such rapid
heart murmurs, such piker(s) gunning, observing an ant war: our souls splayed,
our ways condemned, our fortress building rapidly: as built a dream, this
confused industry, such
crystal-puppy-eyes: to infuse such Blues, this jazzy instrument, those glassy
ceilings: to churn love, about wild dogs, while invested one last dance).
