such
crypts or marionettes so born crooked: family was embellished, self-imagery was
hampered, we lived as undercover agents: such softer language while floating by
orbs or such irritable acmes. our brushwork was different our canvas was
private but our bodies said something. those details, despite mind deputies,
where raw materialism was dormant: such latent/late arrivals, by rounds of
darkness, or to look close enough to pay attention. our mediocre assessments. our
draftsmanship. or panic to imagine someone seeing dysfunction. (but it’s not
that serious, while feeling released one often can’t imagine something is
wrong. such latent/bubbling frustration. or a mental diptych. while we
symbolize or invoke value. sore into our dungeons, so etched in our genetics,
while interior faces arise without understanding. such need for order. such
algorithms by architecture. while absolutes are found in technology.) by
simultaneous emotion to cause upheaval or too descriptive to appreciate: while
Love spoke pain, or another spoke aesthetics, so unreasoned so scuffed while
Love wore a black tie. so postmodern! it courses through us. while subject to
deconstruction: broken trusts, as connoted as trenchant skill, while no one has
detached harmony. so much in souls. our coarse dispatches. where sanity doubts
its incumbency. by iconic feelings, concerning something vague, while we need
to reflect as good persons. wherein, such wretched focus, as interweaved
triangles, while we move by an invisible brush. how to juxtapose interior life
with exterior life? we might gain clarity, as too damn painful, while we
retreat to exist!
