I care
in you, for no greater reason, than I fear in you; the loss of trees and oxygen
the gaining of zealous misery or the design of broken glass;
to
love you like sinking where space closes in if but to love you like winning; so
into this fracture this beast those cherry blossoms; such awkward fruit such
fluttering geese while beauty has never appealed so tenderly;
our
parts as ownership so secure in dying with you while something remains in our
attic; this banshee those chains as liquified and furtive; to imagine another
upon such sweet flesh our brains clash and fail their culture;
as a
man lost without you or a man searching to find you where reality must regather
its ghosts;
to
adore for no greater reason, or to come back to life, affirmed in a glorious
and re-filtered smile.
I have cherished
flying so close to wilderness so afar traveling through your reflection—as a
mere extension where beauty is gleeful and thus I am gleeful; this pool of
probability those spools of our kisses while breath has never tasted so exciting;
those sweet stems those florists in our garden or Zen and Christianity; so
clear for our argument, so divorced from pettiness, while charm has never
enveloped this way; to think so deeply, while rethinking about blankness, where
a man is childhood delights;
our violets by
Neptune our measures by Venus so spatial so Jupiter; to skip signs for it has
no pressure where each treasure becomes its own definition; to rave over
passion, if but to crave more passion, such an island we’ve created.
I
die in you, only to grow in you, and for no greater reason—
those seasoning
eyes those rejoicing eyes at something too terrific to chance; but our fortress
so invaded by demons as something inside has become trauma; our commiseration
our sickly berries where such speech crucifies a man; to know by execution so
splayed asunder our dreams by our guillotine; to enchant this fever so
appropriate to live where anxieties sprout flowers.
I care in you, for
no regular reason, then I evolve in you: watching hands cleanse shrimps or the
aroma of rice or a refrigerator filled with delectable items—
this
curse to adore, as to soar our hurts, so inviting into this queendom of fire;
our crazed jealousies as a person’s securities alongside thorough
accountability; for if others are worth gold than ours is mere copper and one
must perish those sources of diamonds; as cavalier observers but a glance to
interrogate so wrapped in eclectic science; such realized angst embodied in
atmosphere to come so close to a guarantee.
