It
drips at our porch and raccoon rancid hits the airwaves while hummingbirds are
hovering for shelter; a daughter comes to mind a delicate saucy rose or
something incredibly forceful. I wouldn’t know for time this blur in our region
this pelting invisibility; so filched by trauma so alarmed by terror at softer
sweeter music; to love by sight, a deliberate enterprise, but sight unfelt a
scream into exospheres. Rain touches gently. The moon is cryptic. And something
soothes instincts. Our terrible trombone our tragic trumpet our transient
treacheries; if but a glimpse to swelter politely while heading so swiftly—those
guillotines those welted pinholes or this body becoming liquids; as accursed
mystics at our cultic galleries where psychs are standing quite highly; more
importantly, this film in our horizon, those blue jays as humans, or something
too ridiculous to reason through. Our shadows gunning at shadows. Our shadows
becoming centaurs; or wrapped so neatly indebted to features. This man with
dreams, this dread by screams, and too determined to appreciate failure: this
fluid creature, this favorite friend, so cavalier, so chaotic—to chance piano
this galaxy those pensive discourses so recharged and ready to combat
existence; this filed of robots, those raging umbrellas, our daughters accused
of assembling reality; to die forever and live as part-timers so thrown so
indelicate and racing to build bridges.
I
developed distractions dangling by wires so welted and webbed by travesty. I saw
something blocking perception, this essence by protection, where the mind
filters through those properties. Such religious theories if but to suffer
while the humble shall inherit the kingdom; those internal lakes those lurid circumstances
while maneuvering through mad islands; this crackling levy those dams bleeding,
plus, our evidence conflicting with excuses; this pleasure while intoxicated or
this monster going through spells or something a mixture of the two; akin to
shadow puppets so rich by devotion to speak and notice our missing voices; such
powerful affection, such a dear affliction, where one sympathizes with
something that hurts; this psychology in humans this tender taste while
troubled by hells and haven disjunction. I watched a pillar so proud with
silence or loud enough to worry the neighbors.
—but
yours might be soothing a crush upon dear life filled with academic fever; a
complete rapture, devoid of worry, while relishing for the new sun; that old
machine those desired rays at sentiment beauty and grays; a welcoming heart for
an overt home where realities are pleasant and secure; this zeal for adventure
those family outings, plus, a radiant halo—
Intuition
says it’s both.
—where
days are as they come sensing particular rain addressed in unspoken behaviors;
so dear to life and so resilient while resilience should never become elastic;
our feelings so at battle our understandings so at war while both indebted to
our future outcomes; this picture we envision those outstanding personalities
while a Swan is rereading bridal catalogs; to lave our lava, or to rearrange
our emotions, where a sibling is sheer delight; something to zip with someone
to endure with and someone to protect; but an unveiled summit but a spectacular
acme at the apex of our persistence—
