this
logos-speech this travail or sophists’ miracles our eyes locked and
rescued; such rich discernment those appealing auras at treachery so divine its
kernel; welkin expedience those few petals as accursed mindful those blessings;
either a senseless death or something went awry our garden lacewing begonias;
to die in loveless perils so reborn in Derrida or too close to unveiling Jesus;
this endless faith nor our firm doubts while a lady is rooting unaware that she
might be god; so flanked with pressures adoring a melting mirage while painting
frantically; those teal ribbons too much for blue cries while ever a notion
into blue aesthetic; so changed in this life re-rescued and slowing pace to
come to grips with those analyses; our professors so baptized in something so
lucrative as but to ask for one letter confirming religiosity; our theological screams
feuding this philosophical department—taken as sunken or sullen a dream in a
cave to finally break free; this fatal return attempting liberation while souls
cleave to whatsoever comforts; but logos so emphasized as candent fires
or lambent springs—our needs for Father, this sun-blossom, where meaning
agonizes for humans need her; this small feat this windy claim while a thinking
agent needs meaning; something so aflame or something verifying itself
where Love can look, break shames, and fall right afore her friend; our minds
gunning if but to realize this sea of a few facts; those worth living or those
worth dying for as creatures so enlove it feels good to perish this life; our
christic highlights our religious interludes so spoken into a specious or
actualized unspeakable essence; those days in thinking so dearly I vanish while
sudden upon a thought your name; so simultaneous at spiritual allies to realize
we die together; our deep realities our visceral eruptions if but to meet an
essential a space too afar to grin; but faces dance at miracles and laughter
while so attuned to this Third World Underground; to realize in you, this steep
understanding, where a man fathoms a postmodern day spiritualist; so cursed in
this so earthbound in this while everyone is brought back to this tillage’d earth.
if you
exist in me while elsewhere you exist in them than where do you dwell; this
unfair question while needing more of you if but to dice come to brains and enflame
in you; those clear ideals where Love is angelic despite a feudal attitude; our
limbo frontiers so inclined to love dying where such is akin to living;
this irregular feeling those irregular charms while something in high demand is
worthy of capturing; those tales linked to ethos those persuasions by
black knights where essence peaks and demands an audience; so involved in you
as a thought invested in you while awakening needing more of you; this sick ass
dilemma those sickness roses where a man froze a daisy; such pure frustration
in this phallic existence where a yonic queendom becomes so electric; those
colors in ritual those fallacies so enchanting or pure rigorous thought flooded
by infatuation; as a man with parachutes looking at entrance to lose while Love
just needs particular status; this freezing glacier those whetstone tentacles
so abased but enlove as dying to break freedoms; our penchant hearts while sullen-free
affirmed in one last gasp!
they’ll
exist our deaths fueled into this cosmic engine while forced or chased into
dungeons; our love so subsuming so curt and obedient if we perish to claim
deaths; but freedom this rare elusive calendar those Lamentations our
pits our courage our drums to Jeremiah; feuding over letters at great theatrics
our stages fevered by determined miseries; at pure that second arranged by
epiphanies while Love ached a curse too bitter to digest; our patient arcs
those incredible emotions as undercurrents convinced of pathos
affiliation; to remove such feelings, to renounce pure injustice, while
lingering or escaping in a similar direction.
