Monday, June 1, 2020

Un-Romance The Horizon


those eyes too many grays those countenances far too equipped. to have riches such sweet decadence or cadence made so improperly. henna promises the ink fading or more illusions—as met her gone crazy the weight of warriors while a daughter knew emotion. our guts cooing or answered by winds at such inner reach. the telephone the tidbits or those radiant unicorns. so special to me so aloof to me while made a change and drowned a scorpion. hands as stingers or dreams as spiders while the desert became cemeteries. a pack of nicotine or a caring thought so gripped by palm prints. the acts of actions such air in tears while a raindrop spoke cocaine. by hailstone or gentle burials so hooked so gathered—those tiles in there those rings too close while it was never our intention.
            aside a cactus or crevices in clouds so cursed or confused while found like fire. the mountain the fury those moss those mules our fierce deliberateness. to see you as indecent or to loathe such churning loins where such distaste becomes passionate rage—those cuts or cute backfire where lashes touched his flesh. to bungee leap too near those cliffs while breathing you was cantankerous: such mainstay flippancy such rough tyranny where closeness became infuriating. by nowness or knowingness to open wider into something determined. such sweet silence the melody of nothingness that badge those bears our bed of bombs. so much by elbows or deeper distressors while we thought it would disappear. major disagreement so damaged to offer destruction. by moonlight deception if but to touch soul while wobbling to a Lexus. such luminous feelings to have more those riches so charmed to have died for essence: the endless novel, those damp miseries, at smaze or carnations or screams or failures while a man needs something she shan’t give. a tress to spirit an arcade to a child a ring to a woman—so illuminated by sheer osmosis. so much homage so colorful while Love remained invisible.     

The Sentiment

  The Sentiment    It tends to matter—each pursuing holy armor. It leans into a desire to feel pure, clean, sacred and such. I never underst...