the festoon burns. the demon hasn’t
departed. plus, sobriety seems inconsistent. a land near feelings so laxed—we wonder
if we have ourselves. the garland breeds or bleeds such baggage or gray silence…the
noise by a rasp where we aim for the median…by kernel to throb like majesty so
cut or raptured or confused by calibers: our happy devastation, our gallant
sorrow, or eyes so opened they exist in blindness. so outfoxed where we give
clearance prior to reviewing resumes: such freshet woes such luggage in droves
where one decides to ever strike first. to enter looking for an exit. to egress
while looking back. or to maintain liaisons from state to state. by studded
features, by settee mirrors where it was anxiety that first spoke: our sacral
opus, our needs for perfection, or better, and heartwrenching, our hope for an
all forgiving savior.
the
banjo the welded emotion so soaked in depletion. as trying to enter spaces
while chasing faces where most travesties are beyond erasing. it means so much
in me, so ensouled and afire, while I can’t fathom how we hate ourselves. a
sheer affront or a deeper music where most remain ambiguous. such vague evidence
such traveling rivers while so secluded those years. the price of the queen the
scars of the savior where art is anger! seeming an epiphany or relaxed inside
our innermost agencies…so gathered at times or revisions needing editing while I
was on that page for months. by fable or honesty. the fable is delicious. the
honesty makes us skeptical.
we
meet and see mud while we doubt our first impression. we seek control in every
situation while we demand submission. most are awkward or steadily becoming
comfortable where this means an attack. such battles in us. plus, so selective.
where title mean nothing—he must fit the bible. the beast the brooch while
something demands on unspoken/multiple levels. by fragrance at times, as to
look around, where a woman might smile. so far into our futures, so tugged out
of Satan soil, such grieving, bestial repentance!
