…ether
antennas, remote wilderness eyes, a small and petite disinterest: at silver
skies, at aurous skies, so many passive colors: iridescent blue moons,
opalescent saffron sun, an inrush maneuvering, a hush-hush atmosphere, while
words have become lieutenants: so close to cleaving, if but to lose, where
indifference serves its challenge: those banshee retinas, those camera red
diamonds, so cursed, so enlove, in a world too much to resist: at casual
sensories, so casual attraction, while something grows into something
addictive: a radiant brain, an outstanding conversation, toppled off by a
belligerent physicality: so passionate, so outspoken, or too familiar with
internal desire: such zenic kites, or omic rites, while insensitivities prove
resistant: to live forever, this clever language, so coarse, so warm, or a
living fount: those rubescent grins, those demonstrational lips, so supple, so
soft, such sensorium captives: abased in poison, our years have flown, our
aches have become insatiable: our eyes scream for devastation, our routine is
filthy, our grime has formed opinions: to flee into caves, to engrave insanity,
while pleading for unconventional determination: to lose exclusivity, to gain something
at fire, while one is secure with temporal legacies: to know something about
Love, to know susceptibility, while curled in bed looking at mirrors: this
destroyed self, this angular self, so green with ambition: our learned lessons,
our Grecian Empire, where one just isn’t enough….
…bashed
egos, at Love with Infinity, those brilliant red minerals: at deep philosophy,
rehashing metaphysics, while gazing through ceilings: our demarcations, but
myths in time, where openness has become flame: so sincere, at primitive
instincts, while harassed by rationality: to expect in tension, this life in
roses, while graves are parading at futures: to need a child, something
courageous, where insistence proves as truisms: those susceptible seeds, our
susceptible arts, while one needs to mirror ruthlessness: so concerned with
cinema, silky and long mane, or raven and nightmarish eyes: so possessed, so
sensual, while we never believe in longevity: this cruel intruder, this wealth
in hopefulness, while extremes become tolerance: such a morbid man, such a
bleak man, while options are difficult to combat: our minds for running, those
tribal hawks, while inheritance befell a phoenix: so close to you, so expectant
of you, while we sear such severe silence: (those famous weddings, those
glamorous souls, where reality hits about a dozen years inward: those constant
wars, this weekly magazine, where Love covets something at opposites: this
raving fire, this raging person, as many are matched for seasons: this war on
monogamy, this sensational pluralism, while many means more: but two are
destroyed, tugging Infinity, and holding for death’s light: so passive about
dying, so enlove as tolerance, while kids are becoming indifferent: this
grimace in eyes, this legacy in thighs, where acceptance has become our root
pillar): so itchy those nights, such phone galaxies, where reality seems
conditioned by human activity: our lithic attraction, our seduction mornings,
while many are concerned about resilience: to sing a different life, to dance
purple, to exist a level of rain….
…it
becomes living, instead of dying, while attempting to become friends: it
becomes segue, church rites, or understanding our rubber-bands: such
elasticity, such bending here, or contorting there, while something special is
still active: those societal frowns, while many carry closets, while it’s good
where nobody reasons: such harsh reality, such pensive reality, to love and
adore, but tolerance proves its conviction: at pale blue skies, or voluptuous
midnights, where bodies conform to attraction: to resist termination, to hold
dear to life, where souls are distorted: such rich distraction, such richer
acceptance, where time reveals something indomitable….
