…such subtle
elocution, such cautious speech, so baffled by greenness: those perky
adjectives, this calm awareness, so created in instances: our ride through
jungles, our casual frontier, so ruined but healthy: so charmed in private,
analyzing remote corners, approaching unseemly daylight: those awesome seconds,
but left in loneness, if but someone would witness: our deliberate nouns, our
feathery verbs, while words linger played upon repeats: this dish in luxury,
those pellet croissants, this petit exaggeration, while picking over something
indelicate: those darker needs, to possess engrossing nightmares, while feeling
secure and satiated by chaos: at gut-choirs, at raging avalanches, or chores
spinning into obligations: those small eyes, those delicate seconds, while Adorable
is pleading for friendship: this cliff feeling, while tugged by Ms. Delicate,
where an attitude erupts: our beiger cries, our dusty deserts, our dusky tries:
so abrupt with emotion, seated in cryptic stillness, where a glance brings
self-consciousness: our inner estuaries, our therapeutic experiences, or one
simmering in behavioral techniques: at something confusing, this anomaly at
life, while reality doesn’t denote this person’s genius: phenotype
investigation, cognac and cheese, so incredible, so deliberate, but filled with
indelible malaise: this indistinctive entity, while abiding by inventory, so at
this particular chase: where wolves are ghosts, and phantoms are people, or
something eerie, a sudden apparition: our somber, sober, sullen, or adventurous
courage: to meet with God, this sporadic converse, this wrenching devotion,
while meters afar a thump erupts: this silent, vibrational, even irrational
phone call: our lingering pash, our musical emotion, while indicting Spirit:
those answering machines, this consoling response, evidential in such calming
aftermath: wasting our guts, privy to mechanics, so alert, so radiant, or so
under-weather our waists are heavy: where ghosts channel, where life is
perfected, while it feels goodness to shift mood-strikes: this delicate
responsibility, this raging bull, at something decorated by existence…. …so numeric, so numen, so nutty—this
interior mathematics, so at grace with diligence, so abashed, even crazy
without pruning: our wrathful outbursts, or this solitude holding earth, while
backs break with rashes: this whipping frenzy, those deeper concerns, while so
close its intolerable to challenge adoration: but we need more, something damn
near deceased, while loving our inconsiderate selves: those foolish motives,
this deranged line, where souls are captivated by private needs: this fetching
intimacy, those blue horizons, while we possess close to longevity: our busy
women, those busy ways, while Love just became an Executive: this lawyer
persona, those agonizing, polished, irregular portraits: as built to Love, or
constructed to endure, while something needs indebtedness: our playful arcs,
our nimbus caricatures, so evolved it’s hard to claim ownership: this welted
security, this fleeing frenzy, so secluded, so public, or such passionate
principles: those tenets, this rubric, this incredibly loud conviction: as time
churns, as seconds linger, where we plant seeds to alter weaknesses: so alive
in you, so distant our mistakes, while churned by mere concentration…!
I took a pause, lit a
clove, and drifted into fantasy: to see so clearly, this episode in humans, so
clockwise, so overwhelming: to have adoration, to sing in lullabies, to
regroup, come back, and feel uneasiness: this charm we give people, assuming
total involvement, where souls are chasing careers: such pastime, such allergic
algebra, or one feeling kinship: such black music, such white symphony, alert,
dramatical, or rested in opera: our passing minds, our clever inventions,
wanting, needing, or plain demanding: this space in loops, this knot in souls,
this fever in women: or passive souls, but so ill-content, where reality is
with its deterioration: our lingering sentences, our reaching subtleties, our
subterranean currents: this walk with sunness, those elaborate sunglasses, such
reeling sadness: at joys with pardons, at cake with levity, or so thrown it
becomes difficult to relate: our fiery chains, this elegant poise, where
investigation leaves one imbalanced: our protective selves, our protected
castles, while needing a protective soul: those flamingo dancers, this belly so
shaky, while souls worry concerning ruins: but ours was life, this incandescent
feeling, this radical, ancient motif: those casual seconds, this replete surrender,
where two decided to maintain disinterests: at colorful thoughts, at something
repulsive, while needing attraction: this wound-picture, those cautious
memories, or plain un-attraction: at midnight affairs, at lovely, loving souls,
so cursed with singularity: or fortune raging, this knee so precious, this
ritual so inferno: our literary lives, our reenactments, rushing through séance
and glamour!
