pain
becomes laughter insomuch as survival as unstudied creatures. I would pardon
lies, or crisp mistakes, so wild or weird such wreaths. so much stock as put in
sexuality while it seems so little; the basement our drillings as accused
misfits; such burgundy angels so plush with passion by permanent lipsticks. I would
die to know. I would live to fight it. but angst so sweet into darkness! a man
touched in guts, those wombic curses as torn its blessing—to die ever a clover
or to live ever a dahlia so cute into a mini-coma. if love is death than love
is life as we approach our one promise! so cured or demolished as opalescent colors;
so iridescent so pathetic while Love would adore a mistake; the future laughing,
the fumes giggling, so departed such a schism as deceased sanctions. to arrive
at astral pains so desperate to achieve as aloof kingdoms.
the crux of the cuisine such a
woman where fidelity is mental. so inexact into skies while floating in spacial(s)—such
meta-love so understanding while scents perturb science. upon a cardigan where
Love is unspoiled as souls loving despite alienation; our children our problems
our deeper diaries.
so grandiose upon cufflinks while
sore but streetwise—the faculty of falcons those screams assailing sharkskin(s);
to see your face or write cute stories as such
atypical insanity; as distinct
primates fiddling sakata bugs so desperate for pain; as to never again, where
Love appeared, so fragile or innocent or downright delirious!
sour voiceovers, a hard day, or too
many pills to stay awake; so purposed to adore such nostril-bleeds, where
paranoia arrives in forming phobias.
