into
a nightmare slumber
those creeks by oaken roots
those swanlike crystals; so included with dying so curt about dying
but sweet color magnificent; so obliterated in you or so found upon autumn lily while deaths restructure you; those soft aromas or stinky toes at so much to retain;
this feudal plank
those remorseful cries
against fastidious concrete; those pictured falls those rigor mortis walls why so mazilly perfect.
such topaz ornaments or abject-blue-diamonds so accursed to win the long way; by cultural plight by magnitude indexes while a number is easier to assail; those dial-tones or purgatorial societies too exposed to listen; our nakedness into senselessness while one might feed you;
(our vibrating molecules our mentality atoms while some are reading our intestines; those strange eyes this vampire instinct as zombies head into oceans; this wellic crib those telic cries where a soul carries religiosity.).
was
it transparency/ or looking at self/
to imagine: I might become that?
over an apricot with sin or beautiful blotted blouse
such picturesque horror. after years we dissolve where
anger is jewelry or garden symbolism; our first teas, or music in deserts to arrive at decent conversation; we watch closeness while in deliberation or tilling our social island.
we look imperfect we seem strangers we laugh in private; such dear reflection to realize ourselves where most are searching that easier path; where wrongness is a joke or caricatures are ignored plus everyone loves our behaviors; such accountability by reductio ad absurdum in a situation where anything is perfect; this slight uneasiness, where one realizes, as true fact—Either be nice or go away! Indeed…this bottle of carnations or a New Age silhouette while anger is not something others wish to hear. (We prefer Glad Tidings!)
