those
complex smiles those rivers at terrible pleasures.
I
never knew such obligation feuding with potential wives; to have escaped while
scarred but innocence has been destroyed.
those
frail fragile flames aborted to existence where matters are too fragile to
confront.
I threw us while exiting
a dungeon where resistance was paired. I became more human as one knowing
weakness while others were made concrete; this slow allegory or this story we
erase where others maintain perfection; this hardwon ribbon those waistline
hostilities while a man is desperate at battle.
it seemed natural where one
was oriented insomuch as this happens quite often; but such stigma or an easy
prospect while women pass assessments; those other humans as quite a
challenge where such people must be watched; such terrible frustration in this
land of wizards where most will say pleasing things; but sexuality is naïve or
ever too advanced while allergic to our behaviors; such tender characters or
ravished egos affirmed or flustered; it feels like ignorance, it looks like
majesty, while a man answers his fires.
one
would scrub flesh by attempts to cleanse where parts are scratched terribly! such
trickles of life such grace to sustain it while others are confused.
it
is our dream to feel holy despite those ripples while, too, we wish to unbolt
our ethics; as a man lost in pride or an ocean at high tide where answers are
too unapparent. this bag of insistencies or those few oblivious while I have
sat before them a thousand times; but never a whisper as permitting a marvelous
countenance while knowing for miry mudslides. such rich disappointment as never
such anger to realize by much reflection.
we look for pavements as
to assert our existence but we find earthquakes. we seaquake feelings as
seashore apertures lost in one person; such joy or irritability or both; so pristine
plus so human plus so honest; while searching he finds more where a perfect
package walks yonder; this rare reality or this friendly truism—a man will keep
silence!
I have no idea unless I feel
it—this essence we call selfhood. I might bring it to surface I may dwell in its
interior I might be able to train someone—but I have no idea of what it is. this
frail estate, where we adore, but we cannot define our adoration; or more a
woman so delicate but firm while raking her demands; this indebted creature
this miracle creature where we must feel fire.
