if
to lose perception it becomes his life so accused of crooked anguish. to see
beauty as so pronounced while it’s hard to keep perfection. such brushwork as
encrypted where souls fall patience. to wander or wonder as to how it went
tragic—to fly cosmos so extended while anxiety was its kiss; so medieval like
darker fears while so much to die for; those ideographs those sacred deaths if
to see more than losing; at war so bellicose while beasts are chanting filled
with fire. it was us seeing into our needs while I missed your mirror; so sexy,
so believable, or such fancies for one grieving; to see tears so lost at
crosses where performance is part reality. such lingering pain those facial
scars those wounds while I must redeem us. it’s incumbent upon bars those following
angels to fix what has been unfastened; as never a missing week but ever such
sexuality while it’s her decision. I
never saw you or I mistook you while I gave you a mask. I saw sugarberries or
crisp skin or behaviors so couth so vexing while we never know by mere
sex—those unloosened instincts or casualties ten years running or men going
crazy for you: such esteem to have held baguettes or by womb so devastatingly
tragic. if but to live as experience if but those years one more future while a
man becomes his worse memories: a crazed madman so hard on Love, for skies are
ladders or chains—so confused so imbalanced while I anger so many: by beige
deserts or purple cacti as aloof so much it was pain to open more. but days
become silhouettes or messengers become cursed or adoring you interweaves fury.
