Sensory

…give us oxygen, give us breath, so insulated, so deceased, so resurrected: this Swanship, this musicality, this wand so sinful—at rebirths, floored and whining, or steered for Florida: so many wheels, such tetras arts, fitting manipulative pieces: trying so gravely, at tyranny and soul, abashed but falling forward: our gut-cellular, our rut lives, or so ecstatic about temporal realities: to instill a feeling, to dive a course, where inanity becomes infatuation: this thin, gray egg, this recurrent theme, while suffering absence, hopes and screams: those blatant overtures, this hideous scar, or heinous attitude: this need for placating, this frame with tears, or footsteps in dreams: so steep, such brine and scalpel, at sin, deliverance, and repeats: those brown-blues, those hazel-greens, while carnivals paused for their clowns: this national holiday, our painted pantomimes, as life becomes horrid and despicable….

…so unexplained, at furious frustration, so skilled and under-qualified: our late evening midnight, our magnetic forces, if but desire to live: at love and innocence, sought but unlearned, where passion has fled its essence: while flung for sport, or drafted by letters, employed for majesty: beautiful rosebuds, amazing, exotic eyes, or something arranged in mentalities: so explained, so empty, so lost with assumption: this brain-current, this spirit-machete, so sliced, so tossed, so dreaded asunder: to adore last Wednesday, to sense next month, while purely delusional: to drive one madness, this frequency looseness, where one aches for unreasonable results: this  gorgeous sky-cave, this magnificent enclave, while Love adored something fleeing: our oily khakis, our oily ante, our milk-bone palms: so aloof to winning, such pots of probability, so cursed, so alive, so lost for rationality…!

I come to faces, this staircase music, sudden upon identity: thereinto, those four dimensions, those ten horns, or something wafting softly: our rabid anxiety, this rabid war, where only one person feels ecstatic: those forfeited wages, this forfeited future, where one is curious to see nature: this grand reality, if this than that, if that than horrid outcomes: this living room elephant, while agony needs participation, where one opts for a walk through: so sensitive, so desperate, where something reed-like finds it attractive: so delicate, so sensual, so aggressive: this young lad, in a woman’s territory, feeling Jesus: God’s Emotion, feelings Ghost related, a spark, a fuse, a socket: so estranged, so postmodern, or such deconstruction: a man gunning, a lion running, for hyenas are quite insane: our savannah, our Madagascar, so enchanted by vicious cheetahs: so erased, so removed, such a cavity: while Love writhes, so suggestive, or too much while nerves twitch: a shot of vitamin-B, a shot of spirulina, a glass of Jesus: resonating, filled with daydreams, avoiding direct greetings: so sexy, so gorgeous, so down with earth: so radical, so baptized, spewing obscenities: looking blasted, two hours of rest, so wrested, so violent, such a scratcher: this episode, this saga, or life so unexamined: to die thrice, to relive music, at something so irregular: our candid arcs, this thrusting bolt, so un-pegged, so crucial, so uncovered: a robe from Life, a whisper from mid-brains, with years invested in epiphanies: this losing war, our sensual selves, while needing something majestic: so distracted, so semi-sober, at mid-temperature: those budding instincts, this writing self, where Love looks extraordinary.

Why so lonely, this interior dialogue, searching for reflection: this brain person, this active, antagonizing, appropriate person: as it was, as opposed to ignoring lights, while wondering about this event: those rakes, those leaves, our sky-selves: seated with more, dying with less, so cursed for participating: this nature with oneness, this terrorizing kiss, while lately our stars have answered: our magazine imagination, our treacherous interior advice, while leaning into redirection: our wafting senses, those energized respects, to possess a lighthouse: or green pastures, or red eyes, as death was good when passionate!