Out from
graves and ghettoes angst galvanized so determined if but one Pulitzer; those
grim features and excellent frantic(s) as accursed and looking into spongy
hairs; so published those attributes or so holy but human to divorce this
mythology about women; too curvaceous or too thin or too built as if engines
needed more space; this curse in me this demented warfare in me as one
dedicated to locating God in me; too patient to win or too docile for grins and
so eluded in this pyramid kef; those kaleidoscope spirits this fleece about
skin or so destitute it became a miracle to receive you; our minds running off-course
our souls breakage and prisons or our daughters so estranged a madman might
prevail; this rented insanity this vest in beige scars or this dungeon
explained posthumously—those crystal cries those gymnasts hips or so dedicated
to something raising her fears; those interior mastiffs or this mental leviathan
while Love heals, rebuilds and swoops with Magdalene; our muscles bleeding this
cigar leaking or fire to guts a flush and disappearance; but Anger is saturated
and Anger is elevated and Anger is well those acts for balance; to sit like
amazed, to witness pure performance, where Love did excellence—went backstage
and broke composure; our flooded arteries or this steak with onions or this
shake with broccoli; for Love cares and Love dies and sweet brilliant vinegar;
this feud in us this island in us or this remote sinister winner in us:
It
was midmorning those blue vines or those secrets we dare not repeat. I met a
woman in distinction and disguised in titles while red tides destroyed our
seafaring instincts. We chanced a certain nonchalance where something invades
deep feelings whereas midnight had purpled our chorus; this riddle in converse or
those desk dialogues insomuch nothing had changed; this rare mistake peering
and piercing thereinto this casual danger; to handle accordingly to drop innuendo
while subtleties are required to drive sensitivities; this ruthless and gentle
and sensuous divinity; where nothing was undressed and nothing was blatant and
reality looks like something trite; but oh for relations or so gifted it hurts
where something adverse screams that nothing took place; our fragile appetites
our immediate needs where so much is given and nothing cleaves to its future;
this pain in science to become science where our world treats you as science;
this curtain but a human this pleat but a breath while realization performs upon
never those tides; our minds so lucrative our souls so informed and our
infirmities so deliberate.
I shall
return to this space so invaded where realists argue concerning telescoping God;
but more to you this delicate and steel monster or this woman with a cyan heritage;
our oldest literature or our Greek Syntax as something so unordinary a man may
speak geometry; this vision a young instinct if but a fantast as having and
cherishing and raising an exclusive family: I must explain—this tyranny in our
relations where a woman must grow and if a man deals correctly he finds in her
a marvelous creature; but deep time is required a little losing and winning is
required where a woman gets to a point that stability proves its dedication;
so, we happen upon Love and we dote upon Love but someone else dealt with Love
these cards we have happened upon; this is true trigonometry those reasons why
wives are tremendous or this need to possess that for our inheritance; but Love
is entrenched and Love adores Love and Love forgave and dies and shed a basket
of streams; so, we let go and deal in this current while Love feels a deep
reverberation; those tsunami fires or those volcano oceans where souls water a
phantasmagoric garden; this muse for winners this alien for selfishness or this
aggressive indigo splayed and riven asunder; those reluctant hints or those
definite repulsions where loyalty becomes a true friend.
