if sound is necessary or bass is mandatory,
we sail our concerto. as spirit creatures assailed by passion so lost in our
religiosity. to have touched where it meant our deaths such reaching
crucifixions. as mere beings given unto feelings where it has been such
desperation. by asymmetry while searching for balance at life a product of our
misery. so wild in seconds so lost trying our compass into horns or trumpets as
dear disasters.
dessert
is lethal, cake is terror, or steak would destroy our tastes. oh forever
mindful, debating arithmetic, so sewn into early ideals. while life is so
abstract, we add something static, but most have difficulty with self-sacrifice.
I
know elements instead of persons, as if we have never met. I hesitate, or feel
unable, while some things are harder to measure. I sense presence or
premeditation while something remains fragile. it seems unfair, if souls
attack, where such are unable to maintain mirrors. such tiptoeing, it seems
unstable where artists are writing ballet. such darkness in a pencil such
laughter in a woman while I fret distinct sadness. as by frequency into a state
of awareness while life is surrendering. it speaks of atmosphere or winds made
into perceptual dreamscapes—our frantic waterfalls our disingenuous fruits as
souls by some Mysterium; or obedient creatures our guitars in motion as we
serenade an avalanche. or by honesty, as to confess, there’s a rift in me; so
casual it appears where reality is so dismissive while asking one to submit to disappointment.
our purer heart-wrenches or wheelbarrows by wishes, when in essence, it’s too
much to request. but it should hurt, it shouldn’t remain intellectual,
wherefore, one might suggest an interior disjunct. (if to reach its space, by miracle bread, if,
or for what purpose? something has been distorted. it belongs to needs or
perceptions. but no one owes a debt for sharing in a moment. but we argue by
return, if a deal has been made, we are obligated to that contract— we’re made void by this point!)
