to
ask for love
to dance in sunshine
to adore your glow—a mere
soul arguing his mirror so terrified of forgiveness: its obligation its music
its rejuvenation. but those palms those cavern eyes so deep into your skull:
their computation their radical havens if but the fruit of her vinegar: a man
racing home if but to dine as nothing feels better! (it was porcelain those
years it was two months those years where it was a child coming those fears.)
so alienated from humanity or so tired of reflection so much to wonder so many
miles to wander. so congested so confused where it could be tremendous: such
laughs while teary or guts hurting as ribs ache; so much into addiction so much
into repenting while raging over disharmony: by backbone or backwaters or
backwoods—as forgotten writers so determined while it must get better! it was
nice in such freshwater to wrestle an alligator—that demon as it calls while
resilience is but tremors or shivers.
Love would chuckle while encouraging as never a greater human.
by dear delights to have by furnace to go in so far so refined—those matches
our barbeque or classical summer memories. too affected or too immature while
desperate to play grown: a man to his skies or his dreams so infused by effusion—
those features as
madam would fever while it was dementia love or terror love or fairytale love.
