by
sky-throttle a broken brain so close it’s easy to offend me—those old lovers, I
must flee, while Love was pure addiction: those values those veins while
seasoned like beef—the hour of hearts so revived while it must balance—the doctor
the paleontologist or agriculture so sensitive to its systems. such to pause
for skin is itchy while a man attempts sobriety—the screaming moon or horrific
sunlight such tender retinas; by a white lady to presume certain remedies or a
sister laughing over pure mahogany. so much for living so detested for living
while it seems so glamorous: the full curse those acrobatics while a fool ate a
bat. indeed. such surrendering where we parachute emotion while it happens
every Wednesday. to love like a child to need such by disinterests where beauty
would argue for itself. (but a rare psyche. so delicate to particles. where it
has become something beyond understanding. if to ask a daughter if to sense she’s
present or to relocate mother. (we often try an initiative. we get a response.
where we presume it’s what we looked for.) such secrets in this pond while
ducks are silent. by shivers when it hit. I spoke calmly. I asked for my
infraction. indeed. such an answer such quick repentance while the heart sang
for sewers. so threshed so ruined where putting it together is like a rescue
journey.) by journal or screams by deceit or forwardness, while one is too
rectitude. (nothing quite fancy in a deep dungeon while we take pride in doing
better.) I must include her physique her mind her animal so slain or slayed or
running on empty. to die with ease the muscle crackling at pure pain-stock!
