…wondering
steeply this chasm in reflection or this reflexive superimposed escalator; as
it rotates and sings so perfect our interior exterior bars; to look at every
increment to patter softly where wolves are apt towards holiness; our purposive
cries at dungeons vexed or tormented or burgundy skies—to exist in murky
fountains this mount so rich or this asexual energy; so terribly a symposium so
symphonic an agenda while so affable something wiggles its distrust; to ponder
as richness or to salter about parks as generating something crucial; those
hypnotic windows those tortured replies where it’s rare to ever know the person
we have met; this ingredient in super-magic our ears burning by silence at
created entities affixed to false images; as dislodged or recreated where
reality has a cousin and this member has a grandfather—those purple curses while
well esteemed so fixated upon mystic entanglement; so rebuked by sickness so
filmed by pineal glands
at
wealth and disgusts or purer attraction; so unstirred or so elated while
balance becomes this winter in its guillotine;
those
aesthetics in spring or those anklets during summer or so fashionable it aches
with glory; staring at a little child, those plastic scissors, while concerned
a bit; or mother playing arcade and cooking and chasing this little dream;
so
raw and cooked so lovely and angst’d according to miracle a hot tub and a glass
of cider; so astute where I ponder behavior while reading something similar to
our defeat; this island about trust this world so vicious while studying
what we may become; our abraded minds our losing feelings or so accursed
erosion is consecration; those perfect regrets or this assassinated new birth or
this unborn innate but living insanity; those curious nonchalant gestures those
tubes arranged in piercing or dynamite so swift it doesn’t explode; or years
observing a creature too removed to sense silence while a great deal becomes
this industry—those iotas in beige those motes in hazel or those times we
watched participated and never uttered a word.
I felt cursed a young apprentice
staring into Sun Tzu so soundless so subtle but dying too much; such a glimpse
into a woman’s life where agitation came and went and renewed its energies; to
like something with fire to ignore something too sensitive or to feel a person while
becoming more unsteady; as aloof but wondering as keen but daft or so close to
asking a pertinent assessment;
those furious fugues this
aggrandized neglect where patience appeared knowing I saw its nature; but what
for passionate and committed and neediness where a soul might see itself?
this maniac silence this person you
feel while so indebted it becomes impossible to chastise; those lyrical predicaments
or this miracle relation or so much into you and losing but gaining more
mysticism; this unfair paradox those deep attires where we realize something is
irregular; to want by needs to insist upon one persona while this is both
terrible and unfair; but luster and diamonds but pain and glory or so caught in
webs it felt tremendous to breathe; those alienated estuaries those
tragedies in cyan or so florescent it becomes our destiny-hex; those precious
tears as dying so often and afraid to admit that we cause our deaths; so
startled to see it as it arises in tyranny but too often so gentle an infant with
superior brains; so psychopathic and decent or so psychotic and charming or
such a boarder-line causation characteristic; those pale times so affected
in color where reasons seem such self-interested;
our
welts and diamonds our screams and dementias at meadows and mansions;
so
alive to adore you or so calm about this pain as creatures yearning for fires;
those
jaunty eyes those dancing legs or something too accursed to rightfully claim;
as
cringing to see us or radical to lose us where most hurts remain despite
apologies;
if but to relate this tremendous
perusal too cursed too divorced to rightly acclaim a pure undifferentiated
emotion.
