so
raw in fantasy such a creature while admiring you is temperamental. I sense
music the melody of the muse those rages simmering into hostile tears. if to
have rubies or to trade diamonds while a man is uncut essence—those parts in
oceans those waves in guts as time would prove adversarial; such toeholds upon
sociality, sore patience, such realness a woman might request. such vapers so
sour, if one lie too many, while sheets hold desperation. the mind in temperament
the tenement in souls while Love rents an inner apartment. an inter-eye or
confused pleasure where a poet might be too grown; as bodies would speak, such
language feeling external, if but to have such aesthetic intra-psychic fire.
our agonies our truest mirrors while we feel alienated: our ghosts our
apparitions where one is at our shoulders. I could never catch it, or ever
write it, no matter what might be described. so elusive in me, it aches in me, as
we awaken needing our eternity! to have known gorgeous or to have dealt a blow
where Love upped by disappearing; the lesson of the manic, or seated at a book
store, where beauty approaches & says, “I need a glass of wine.” indeed, as
I would love to lie, but I responded, “I have a lady.” so young in me, or
trying theology, where it never happens again. but morals are subjective, where
ethics are relative, while we need security!
I disappear into a chocolate factory. so gifted so moist such a disappointment. or vanilla on edge, while it was routine, where a man needs to see his ideals. to look at flesh, to imagine cleanness, while reality is a magician; those flames as one frets his nurse as something internal: the laundry room, the war cave, or such oaths meaning so much, we must believe!
