We
might conjecture those windy flames where minds are inward.
Such
inference sedates softly
by courage or sullen stillness
where
most men wonder.
It
was kef those
charms
it was life
those
seconds
while
absence becomes comforts;
such
essence flowered
to
others such sweet
fires—such
syrup appointments.
Love
was savior or seduction or complaisance. —to have intimacy to adore by faith or
to crave where pains are mental—by fate or hex a man feels complete; those
underground cults those fair furious women where such was restructure or
upheaval:
so deathless our souls
so transfixed our parts while allegiance was pivotal.
I
have watched guilt
this
wiggly subcurrent while so sonic such ambiance or pain. I have uttered
strangers and laughed in showers while mute on emotions;
at a
nearby lake, suffused with legacies, and feeding a brant; our empyreal
beauties, our textural dialogues
as
creatures secluded publicly.
ghost temblors or
energy in waves so reduced to our yearnings; to harbor fears to look for
entrances where the ingress is blocked; at an impasse our recommitments our
soulprinted quilts. those exotic feelings those erotic eyes while one hides
intelligence; to need one to fall—for heart body and wall—so fretted while we
can’t withstand.
the
opus is you. the trail is scented.
those
feelings are marooned.
this
island those gates while so close it aches; pure majesty laced with sorrows
where spirits are melancholic;
but
a furious plan, to tap in or vanish, while Agony has grown stronger.
but
cryptic splendor so activated for you where a man might change rubrics for you;
those pouty axioms those fair tan palms or a nail you pulled and broke a
feeling; such sinister cleanliness, so many charms, and father left us feeling
guilty.
It
was you to soar to die flipping mid-winds so sublime so lonely where I was
pillar; by sour elixir to attain to such freedom while forced to carry God.
