to
smell emotion to sift by feelings such soft cotton; born to midnight or
misunderstood suffering shell-shock. I was winds or wilderness or plates while
others dined on miseries. I would join in time, becoming an adult so occupied
by anxieties. (I often dream where you appear such waning or wrangling so
absent those waves. to cure a wound to fish a frenzy so accustomed to something
siphoned. our negligence our subtle jibes while volts become javelins. but
reality is railways or doors or baby toe jam—so gentle with gnats so hectic at
fences or on line at a protest; by damages to become moral or by interests to
become ethical while something aches for humanity.) I grab texture I palm it by
mind-prints, such wheezing weather; sweltering or swiveting by dear analyzation
where most often, I’m in a different location. so close to his vest such a
straightjacket volunteer or vaults unlocked while maintenance is on vacation.
if to design it this way, where we each determine true resilience, until it
satisfies our sensibilities. so calm by chaos, something internal, while I would
adore ferns—those old winters those summer pliers where I worked on the Heart-Cadillac.
(a glamorous magazine or volume velvet our magnanimous lies; as a woman travels
her mirrors or frets her uterus so wild with terrors or mad with utilities—those
eyes falling our necks knotted as one knits a treasured blackhole.)
midnight is intimate it’s palatial
it’s pantomime; to fear you to war you or to take too much courage; as our
pretensions or our pretendship so occupied by ghosts. (I understood disdain, it
was loud across rooms, but I fell like boulders. she watched even knew while I continued
to undress realities; by trauma to a soul or sanity to an addict or a savior to
a soldier; our surrendering or smoldering or sanctified miseries; to resist
until it screams or to refurbish close to damages; as to adore our worlds if
but gaining entrance while such friends often die imprinted by satisfaction.)
