It's
hot, humid, a bunch of that, a bunch of this; the vacuum is dusty, we fail to
use it, the pain is medium. It was intense today, but a kind hand set it right,
such pelican patience. I thought to you I managed to drop a tear it’s hard
these days. I need devotion, I need a prayer, so strong so velvety so incomplete.
As strangers, right? as distant feathers, or better, wings that fail! I hear
silence as it whispers while a smile hits sunrise. Our kleptomania our coarse
dealings while one says something sympathetic. It was life aside from reality
where most parties were laughing; a guffaw back then or terrified ants while
suppression was destruction; an interior rumble a bottle of strength or
something delusional; some believe that way where a woman is watching while she
suffers alone; such adolescence watching deterioration or substance abuse; but
not me, not this machine, while he was strung up and flinching; a few this way
a few that way and a few hospitals; to live tenacity or to become tenuous while
after something so divided it gave fifteen percent. It was easy to die it was
life to disappear while others are angered, he became academia.
I have
a question: What happens when inconsistency clashes with mindfulness?
Not
a game. Not a ploy. More a sincere question.
there
is a monopoly on us. this huge war. it happens like this.
I see
an inconsistency, I point it out, where the addict stirs up insecurities.
Indeed, that heinous title those evasive screams while true observation is confused
by redherrings.
I’ll
leave that alone.
The breeze
is flowing, such syrup or cinnamon, while on quarantine a neighbor is hosting a
block party. It seems asinine. But I find I try to make too much sense. It’s a turnoff!
Or maybe
this: what is vetted contradicts what is projected. A true possibility.
I will
love you I will float through dreams I will surrender to something I see in
miracles.
I remember
a situation. It was over a lady. But I can’t say I lost but serenity.
something
a bit personal, but I care to share, it belongs to a close associate.
she met a few
guys. she was smitten. one was sick. another was mean. and the other just
disappeared. the sick one wanted a few grand. I advised her to think deeply. the
mean one, after sex, always asked her to get her ass going. while the one that
disappeared likes sending filthy texts. I say this for you, be aware of what
the possibilities are.
some
are difficult to win, maybe too cautious, where it’s better that way. we must
admit, there are different approaches, while a little filth might seal the
horizon.
I close
with unsure feelings. A soul wants to fix improbability. A soul wants to make
it perfect.
