such
pure disgusts where one hates while another is remote; this unlikely truce this
deep sharp agony or those days it gets so heavy; our chestnut breads, our
almond teas, while glancing at
manuscripts;
our papaya eyes our sugarcane memories our hopes for that first feeling; to
frolic like kids or to build infinity where friendship is flame; such deep blue
seas, such reckless
disputes,
but it matters less when apologizing; such midnight wreckage or senseless
actions where we regret submitting our bodies; but a palm of cashews or a sip
of vodka while we wonder
why she’s
in tears; so gray so vague where we nurture something feeling mishandled; our
minds wandering but nary a sound as we tend to kiwi eyes; this man so late this
cure so unlikely where
it
begins to feel regular; (as a man thinks as a woman lives where reality becomes
our sacred comforts; indeed, we ask for so much, this deeper explanation, but
some are not equipped despite
their
concerns). but voltage or compassion or to imagine something without evidence;
such expectations or such resuscitation while one is compelled by something as
it means so little; at
undercurrents
at deep designs where we sense it isn’t so sacred; those rapturous pulsations
those livid cries while one might be dying; it becomes a foolish excursion or
something ripe with pain
where
one is considered ill for not holding its crucifix; indeed, those ashes those
cigars where we feel hives and sense fleas.
It was notion to
greet you it was heaving to withstand you where a mother never so attractive;
this gut of wars this bubbling horizon while so mismanaged; to have you in
thoughts, so clear it’s majesty or leaping in midst of galaxies; such wavering
between passions or this unknown self as electric or watery—those angsts those
academic fires while a soul is justifying existence—this battle to know its
name this jukebox history or early night backgammon.
such
quiescent daughters or rebel mothers or courageous stepfathers; by confused
goodness or blanket sorrows this lilting or toppling this fair distraction; by
opulent shrubberies or lush sun-
keepers
so meshed into night-rise; to have affection to need interplay while such was
never an option. our Joker souls or so dislodged it speaks where a spirit
trickled into public domain; this
harsher
critique this mistaken chorus where it must be our life; by a legendary Anchor
or pure edification where one is hampered by a natural feeling; such mauve
pangs such birth to arise
while
one has forgotten his costume.
