such
floral esotericism while redbirds gather so pulled by instincts; an interior
review our mental interrogation where a man auditions before mirrors.
but
Love tremors where pain is relational or pride is ritualistic.
by luminous misery so fretted by
concerns to love so dearly filled with anguish; enamored chaos or twilight
sorrow at roads trekking with lizards.
we adore gentility or
fall like hail those keystone seconds; too casual an exorcism, those incredible
strata, while a person wishes for something by differences; such photographed
lava, such rich destruction, something to remember those cries.
sounds are spatial this
land is crucial our arc is presidential; southern seahorses or northern octopus
at something appearing in screams; such heavy erasers while astonished by ink
to imagine something so permanent; but Love is sequences or dots or daggers so
sensuous so forbidden; to have this emotion in a field quite my own while
needing security willing to jeopardize sanity; such gorilla labor such tall grass
grazing or those sagelike distant glances; such irony plus rain such future
memories such present mind-pictures; as cursed to explore, even death so
electric, in such a wrath of running harvests.
we
have loved purely while convinced by worldliness so accused of assassination;
so many shapes such languishing atmosphere or pure lethargic winds; such intense
rapture laced with apathy so ironic the way we love:
to build in us this
planet of uneasiness while true love fears its object: at toil or strain at
heart or body where the human definition is too concrete; but orpine sin upon a
sea of dramatics above those nova petals; at no greater word, but it seems
superficial, if one but utters, I love you.
to
scratch a muscle, to glance at screens, or to grab a cola; such a noble feeling
so intense with laughter while life proves fever for stronger souls; but we
watch something so confusing where many live out painful simplicity; close to
five lovers in one month, such Tao induced unclarity, while having plural
lovers isn’t the source of pain; it becomes those vows those ruthless, I can’t
carry this, vows; for we desire undivided adoration we need to feel royalty
where evidence of plurality might shift our energies elsewhere; so a sacred, elusive,
even illusory proclamation—where walls are crumbling, as words become nonsense,
plus, vows unravel where bodies carry scents; this sort of misery, proving
itself ignoble, while a day or two later, the say behavior is carried out. but
a rare saxophone such golden passion so intent, attentive, or traumatized;
where behavior becomes representative, as words are concrete, while our human
definition expands.
