—into
lower frequencies or unraveling motion while two are at something frightening;
to chase a man, after assailing his guts, while every corner speaks to tragedy;
such feudal flares such demonized culture while a man is churning from visions;
so cured in silence or years with debates, to meet and greet as instincts spoke
ostracism; our points so foggy our insecurities wailing while something gentle
whispers, Humanity; such protégés such vying for one last opportunity or
sudden deep at realization; this forming reaper, or that facetious grin, to
feel so prided over something vicious; as worlds churn or skies divide while
another is pure at observation—
—but upon a marigold
pondering symbiology or evading humanitarians; eating softly, but a carrot with
celery or mind-dice and insistence; as charmed this life, or rattled that war, while
depleting egos has become a sport; indeed, we chime this way, we waltz like
fevers, while fully equipped to decide when to strike…we adore our own, someone
humble for us, someone engaging or verifying our winds; this splice I took or
this cave I repainted after something harsh by unwelcoming eyes—
It was
a smile I saw it felt so high so proud so loud and gray.
But life
is feral or so chilly while we never realize sentimental beauty—a man at
mountains a student of those crimes while looking or sensing or trusting his
compass; so far a station of this cliff or a soul debating ethics while we
negotiate with morals; so long ago or so recent while her pash defends he honor—this
falling into science, this rug pure purple where earth is violet essence—those dear
abandonments our settling tendencies or so far in love it hurts to breathe—while
so analytical attempting to sing while it was nice to splice his guts.
I reappear
those ghostly elements in gathering music.
Something
dawned upon me. I was listening to colors. And I concluded this sun-gray
beacon.
so there in those
phantoms so alive and running while it becomes something I can’t define. This running
blimp those tired concerns while a man should live like he thinks. this correlation,
those haven hells, into something that could traumatize. this simplistic man.
this gunning element. or accustomed to something that has become too familiar.
disguised
or genius, dysfunction or catalyst, while it becomes our faces; this contorted
thing, so angry with madness, while I classify in order to survive; to do as we
contend, to challenge stigmata(s), while stigmatizing this entire world. it is
so unfair, such a powerful mind, so concerned with us; whereunto, this piece of
functionality, this brilliant lesbian, this beautiful and profound grind; to
splice his guts, to despise his favor, while reading ten metrics afar.
This need we
crave, this fervor we incite, as creatures watching and gambling and digging
into reality; this unfavorable essence, this shifter with crimes, while feeling
so political;
our first song or
broken opera where another has pledged to that duet.
