into
a galaxy or orbing into frequencies so touched by kindness. our scribbling
spirits as to write upon pavement a bit grounded our daughters; to converse
obvious measures or to avoid hermetic presumptions while needing something
mystic. I should love like dying or appreciate every morsel as abandoned to his
cattle; to have watched but such distance where people polish differently. if
but to grip clumps of air or to spray-paint skies where an infant is palming
spirits; those chuckles at pure nothingness to dine with living room winds. I fathom
grayness but something becomes soot while reality chokes on blackdamp; our
pensive hearts our hurt feelings where dragonflies are fertile aloofness. it
was innocence those days it became partly crazed while it maneuvers for its
dreams. I look to feelings or deliberate
with facts but a man must gain composure. a soft sell or a hard close while
some are walked into submission. those eyes debating where minds compute if but
to un-silence something it screams—our battled lives or those happy moments to
sit or prevail; a cryptic sister or maybe a brother while life is taking its
place; our values up for discussion our terrors close in cubicles while we must
abate them or nurture them. either/or, they fret or frame or fracture into
pieces—those devices those storms those wars!
