I
grip carpet, moist and sullen, aborted but arriving—this tender miracle, those
tender electrics, at cords and violins, so spacial so under-created: such
screeching vocals, such screeching attraction, so many frantic alarms, our
brains, Love, our guts, Ensured One, our bibles, our studies—to die at fever,
to live so coldly, while repenting for a strange island: those Waste Lands, or those tender,
unfavorable, nearly unnoticed daisies: at angry curtains, or talkative
chandeliers, while resting upon a loveseat: this aesthetic settee, those
laughing ottomans, so fretted, so addicted, where winds simmer into lutes: at
harps, Love, at tender deaths, Love, while fettered for chained running into
dungeons, Love: our delicate freedoms, while free to behave, where such should
seem easy: (to favor Ms. Unnoticed, to leap where roses are thorns, or fiddle
for nibbling tumbleweed): this ridiculous laugh, those porcelain highlights,
while Love frets a few pounds: to grip harder, to tug with intention, at a stranger
womb: this small literary, our intense survival, carving particular imprints:
such cameo delights, such waist-level chairs, or beds ruined come summer: that
throaty chuckle, such violent language, such luggage and bandage: those weasel
memories, those wilder hyenas, plus, this lingering attraction: a man to
battles, to war for lands, to offer a piker as a gift: our dingo fights, our
wrestling arms, while meaning something uncouth.
I pet a shark; I
painted tigers; so intrigued, so existential, while opposing this labyrinth:
this maze of haystacks, this world of shrubberies, at purple/turquoise eyes—or
falling into jungles, those green fires, such blue horizons, fretting over cyan
tears: such pooling knowledge, such captive arcs, while Love is quite temperamental:
our bull-dung, our deep deception, while nearly owning each other: so perfectly
underrated, such curious undulations, at underground, atypical responses: those
panda bears, our channels giggling, our ears awakening to gray silence: such TV
static, such noisy beds, while Love attracted an attitude: and tender our
metaphysics, or rereading our teleology, at angry points, realizing many beg
the question stated: a Tibetan fox, those Asian cries, while preaching
antitheses—as crazy souls, pointing to multiple reasons, in which, one should
resist—that flowing advancement, those ad
hoc arguments, or reducing something valued to a ridiculous absurdity: such
fire laughs, such rapture and pain, where we need loyalty.
…we
rear a feeling, as re-portraits emotion, so mawkish and re-sentenced: attached
to great whites, feuding over improbability, looking at something vicious but
seated in tranquility: butter and garlic, bread and honey, so sensual, so
relaxed, so intense but casual: this internal machine, this mental hologram,
while so senseless to invisible but tangible language: nigh’n closer, nodding
our spirits, while undergoing pretzel-like intensifications: our ghostly spots,
our leopard Leo’s, our panther Aries’: so gone this planet, an elusive puma, at
deeper treasuries….
…we
lance a fever, a palm of Lithium, a glass of Cognac: petting antelopes, chasing
rabbits, sensing something quite casual concerning sexual magnetism: this sport
for souls, this chemistry as allergic, at interior races: our links with iron,
our spirits with aluminum, our habits feeling bronzed: to gilt a feeling, to
lavish an emotion, to curse at breakfast: tawny brown lenses, elongated necks,
while Love has grown tired of animals: this need for passion, those showering
kisses, those intense, homeopathic, African gazes: our minds raising questions,
our souls becoming older, where feigned behavior seems quite impossible: this
treacherous profanity, this losing mentality, while sullen upon a stranger and
tingling….
