Thrum
this rain, droplets trickling, your beauty killing me: so soft-spoken, while so
raspy, our minds dodging electricity: so content, so challenged, our writing
needs: at deep attraction, bonded by verbal essence, or terrified about
destroying perfections: while daughters flip pain, and sons scream at glory, so
submissive, so indebted, warring against mental abasements: so Alaska, too cold
to exhale, plus, our chapped lips: frozen rivers, supporting polar bears, plus,
two cubs: needing Brazilian sunlight, or Africa’s oils, so accustomed to
analyzing Asian women: so deliberate, so mis-earned, where reasons seem plural:
our modernity, our medieval sentiments, but so dark, so murky, and such marsh:
peering at mayflies, so early this morning, contemplating inconsistencies: such
a perfect image, even agitating, where one needs to ruffle those feathers:
watching flying squirrels, indexing pictures, reviewing camera-ware:
intellectual dangers, Madagascar emotion, while lions are too powerful: an Indi
lemur, a cute meerkat, a speedy shrew: to drift this pain, to analyze Europe,
while certain thoughts are too sacred: this monogamy sting, this consensus, or
this failure to complete tests: nibbling bamboo, rereading Sinclair, wondering
too deeply: at something creative, or something Irish, where liquor seems
apropos: running for futures, kneeling near a mantis, or conversing with
sloths: such metaphors, dangerously too close, while irresistible is not merely
horny: odd ruses, odd vernacular, where some of us are too concentrated: such a
humiliating look, reciting something incredible, while one is half interested:
but back to gorgeous, while exception is lethal, at terror to lose poetry: this
mistress, this wife, this hard pressed warrior: those tempest wiles, those
tender woes, or too tendentious and wicked: to explore tighter caves, to run a
disastrous risk, while speaking to something most men popularize: extrapolating
meaning, measured as madness, where a particular grip tolerates insanity: our
blank responses, our bashed reputations, at brilliant resurrection: so
colorfully anti-colors, so curt, so refined: to prejudge experientially, to
probe expectedly, while pressured to hold indiscretions: this oxy-prose, this
anti-prosaic, so pictured in a running womb: aye-aye frustration, our tender
names, while screaming and yelling and getting closure: this hell-cactus, this
fueled detriment, so harmful, so human, or haven terrors: while Love is
remarkable, undone, plus, uncaptured: so many eyes, so many disguises, where we’re
locating kindreds: at tragedy in you, to imagine keeping you, so jutted, or too
irrational in you.
…into
flame, our furious hearts, such a rendezvous escalation: such ferocious volts,
so complete in something partial: at paradox and love, at rounded squares, too
indicted to breathe: to find you there, eating similes, or chattering
trigonometry: so close it kills, so alive it hurts, such beauty designed by
oxymorons: so occasioned, if but our colloquium, at terrified fractions:
numbers gunning—into this fairer desertion, while petrified of glory: blue
blades, brilliant banners, bulbous billows: at foresights, such a cynosure, or
too evolved to speak with Zeus: wonder raging currents, or warn rendition
colors, so waxy, so ridiculous, so careful: as a dead appetite, brought to
insistence, while loving you is anti-consensus: so earth to chains, as
musicality to shames, so enflamed, misguided, and aflame: at perfect daydreams,
with you so dear, while featured in symposiums: our deaf arts, our inner
Beethoven, at violins tacking our souls: burning earlobes, teal gray exercises,
while scheduled to meet with Gertrude The Great….
It
lives by myth, it appeals by stories, it dreams and laughs and ponders
impossible horizons: it’s blended mushrooms, it’s deep intrigue, or specialized
resistance: it amplifies, it dies, it cries to something non-discernable: as
fire sparks—at trampolines—or leaping too high to land.
