so
much the terror those tragic webs so wicked so assailed into Asian cries. but a
born/behavioral talisman or a travesty-hat such hailing-bought-haven or acrylic
personality. to die in a sentence such sincere disgusts for he reminds us of deprivation.
by London artistry too filled to fumble such instincts those years at sheer
embarrassments. Love was shocked or treasures were casted so course into trails
such beautiful sorrow. where normal was chastised while reality was crosswise
so real so regulated. the smoggy rooms those stenches or stitches while a nun
rethreaded her addiction. over cold beers a true confession, I take it to the
catacomb: sights in us or pictures snapping while afraid of anything but sex.
by a standard sold so early where a man convinced or evinced her into believing
love is but physical. we say something in this unfair pain while adoring
companionship. those windows those widows those welkin warnings—as baited for
hated while hell was a bailout—a jackal’s charisma a Korean’s jingle so knit so
tightly or confused. it was thus sporadic or uneven such silent/unhealthy
longing. whereby, those fluttering frames those feathers famished those
feelings failing. where days were darkened the portrait polished the gangly
grasshopper. so exiled or unrecorded where vultures partook of flesh.
such was fresh in
me such was trauma or courage or mother or father pure stipulation sewn solace
while calmness was actual retreat. too afar to baffle to close to battle at
miles or milieus or mega militias. so vague in there an omen at treasures in
there or something a bit gray those occurrences in there. Love is an octopus by
deeper levity to have arrived as a goddess. our filthy daiquiris our rancorous
cigarettes while so deep-in the impossibility is palpable. it was a dream a
sudden clash into glass or steel or fury about flaming. so dear to me while it
shall never matter for math has condemned the mystic.
