I explore wisdom this
painful creator this power too emphatic. I kiss knots so knitted by pressures
or silenced by liquor; to have adored dying while such was luxury at purple
pride or passion; if but to believe in something crucial while a man idealizes
his queen; this unreal creature this perfect romance if but to perish so slight
of terror; such nobility such anchor or wrench our ship-plate haywire; as
irreligious souls hung by Jesus while it seems an immoveable paradox; our keel
but kilns our kites for daughters our minds upon upheavals. Ladies—you must
assure a man, you must be easy, for strength might disappoint you!
Such aperitif to stimulate appetite while pondering
alterity.
But a soul in you so
downcast in you while heaven became a hellish language in you. Those turbid
ponds this turbid feeling while a person often acts in opposition to his
feelings; but proper behavior but proper exposure or but a proper death; or
unloosened latchets above pure levity while there is friction in laity.
I was abandoned. I walked
through Santa Monica. I met Muslim women. Those scents to a scented brain they
exhilarated me. We fired in harmony such a gift from interior where I never
felt such fury. Too much beauty as in becoming caricature while a man was left
with unbelief.
Loving
you was two mountains.
Such
abysmal justice such unreal imperceptibility where it was delight to imagine
crystals; an angel afire while beauty is a monster our cathedral rebuilt; so
facial or comely so agitated or irritable while it couldn’t be factual: such
ballad unstableness such disturbing letters while it was unlikely to retrieve
sympathy; this unfetching essence this sheer contempt where something is askew;
but more to structure so agitated by caprice while we realize a man might lose
senses.
We
made death of us while blaming the other in sex so volatile.
I can’t reclaim poison
albeit this functioning hemlock while daughter has reflection. Those egregious
days that bad email or a man pleading his resurrection; to feel such power
where nothing else is coming, or to state something crude where she shivers
from guilt; so inexplicable or so incorrigible where a man might accept by
region: those languid apologies, or that awkward nonchalance, to have feelings
for being discovered; but nothing tangible nothing human, especially, nothing
affectionate; those others at dismissals our charms but disgusting or our arms
reaching for branches.
