but a tussock such roots with ants
crawling. but a flipped coin or flippant personas where we expect him to kiss
ass. by sheet metal emotions so hurt its haven where flies swarm. the purse
inside those bookcases or dusty idiosyncrasies. so fair to expound, while we
look shallow, one needs more substance. such bold shyness or underlaid crusts
while son just needed a mother. by pure indemnity if but the fever while
feeling delighted to escape—some type of prevarication some near alley or
seated near a mangy chitzsu: a best friend, our deep issues where jealousy
becomes a road blocker: those pressures into deaths while love is most ambiguous.
if I might rule you. if I might seesaw you. or tap into something you can’t
understand. such primal alienation or saber-tooth allies into some tattooed DNA—the
skirt for his eyes the muscles set to charm while home is unimportant—by change
in seconds something beyond control or so loyal it’s plain distrustful. (but a
man so skeptical or so pessimistic while I, too, desire something inescapable!)
we’re rough or tough or strong: we play that out, or we feel unsteady, while
children tap into primitive fears. such raining delusion or seeing fright while
sympathetic/empathetic to such root terror: the drills through jungles or life
as college where clippers are running unbeknownst to me: those shaves for you
those airs for you those cuff-replies for you: the witty remarks the memorized Shakespeare
or months studying for our date—as two weeks of extraction! (the promise as
nothing the mother as tactical or it seems like disarray: such galloping science
such raiding zebras while buffalo are grazing. the killer bee, those pesky
wasps, or years debating a phone call.) our existential wilderness, if most
mis-fathomed, while a stranger is open enough to understand. surefire
contradiction, in a land or predators, while a few are wrapped in ethical mire:
the long-held wife, the futuristic husband, or granny with family concealments.
the Trojan Horse, the weaving maiden, or theater such comedy such tugging at its
audience. by agenda to speak. by frustration to become a fox. while I fret over
one belief: it has always been its ruse! such silent treachery something
insidious to rapture into regress. this space as left behind where one used
your trauma. our mountainous letters. while such admiration. as I confess an
indistinct metropolitan. it becomes an assertion, as I must filter that way,
for anything else would leave me fretting by guilt. those mind-phones that huge
dialer at some type of ringing conscienceness—to become an android or to drown
out atmosphere where I must be a good person! such hate by windows such
begonias in vases where one realizes mother is dazing—the curse the beautiful
music the floor such dirt mingled with tears—those voices as screaming while a
daughter is running her marathon: such wailing to imprecate upon existence the prophetic
understanding!
