I sense us
but not all the time while I cleave to invisibility; but grade school mythology
while writing letters to convey something better said; to sit in concentration,
watching or dreary into a state of affairs—insomuch as dying so young. I remember
beauty or semblance thereof while longing seems so juvenile; our marble tablets
our deeper allegories where we recite and need to relive our fables. I image a
novel a glass of tea and an hour to bedtime; our dressers as witnesses our
music setting its tone or so gorgeous the mind can’t respond; those awkward
seconds or one so attuned where so lept into midnight silence; as thieves in
hearts or kleptomaniacs in spirits to cuss for fun and judge us later.
Our masks are so believable.
Our
souls are so contagious. And it
was damages and twilights or penalties.
How so enlove or a
minister stalling where Love is oblivious? those trenchant ditches such a
pillar of a dream our nerves scattered to skies; such mauve music such jamesia
pain indeed to recommit to jousting for something growing in distance; a man as
his charms a woman as to inconsistencies while we meant for something
temporary; but island skirts or tropical lusts if but to remind terror those
welts or storms; our guts at wars our minds at issues while a person realizes
never to love misery; but relished anxieties or merry-the-angst if but to enter
and clamp by sorrows; this dense reality to redeem something dying as evident it
might cleave and adore by eternity. To have resuscitated or to give existence a
man deserves a conversation; our odors running our bodies freedom but a person
is living for such fireworks.
Maybe
privilege is ubiquitous our hours of sacrifice where each person knits their
huts. Maybe loving is unique or meant for a few like most are invited to leap;
such purpose in us, or lightweight existence, or so deep into-it the
walls are melting; as carnival realities or entitled delusion while some are
meant for devastation.
I
arrived unknowingly. I was champion of illusion. It was pain unbeknownst or
agonies feeling
normal
or poison so detested it felt like flame; to taste helium to nurture confusion
where a person is curious about such fiction;
but
a tent or evanescence while pure capacity is often initial receptivity.
