I move
slowly or fastly thus far as melodious screams. I try harder those days to
speak by integrity aside a chimney. the bleeding aches those walls grew or
water is fire or dungeons so seated in slime. the pain of the pen. the danger
of the attraction. or projecting with a need to survive. our sacred oils our
candle-vines so secluded remaining so seen. to love wit or passion or dear
disgusts those tryouts those tyrannies as a man might recant. so prone to
repulsion so dear to lies while his past is wreckage; the steelyard the
graveyard those stockpiles. boulders build poison. so close as enough to find
issues. where most give to an initial ache. (Love was sharp or damaged or an
alcoholic; sobriety was its wretch its bane its remedy for addiction. the slow
penalty for so much alive, while taking his place was a miracle; for he beat or
destroyed while screaming or kicking at goads; our passion would never sing,
one was struck in its past, albeit, such filth was pure servitude; the cry of
wolves the dry valley but I yearn for the one cactus; as crazed souls, a
fretted war, while three months pregnant; if but to tell him, instead of baggy
clothes, where he heard, clutched his fist, to accuse of treachery; the deadman
the hidden woman while change seems dishonorable.)
I get anxious assuming actions or
dread so decided in a deathlike instance. to flee flame while begging flame
where most men went ballistic—such addictive rites or addicted souls while
begging for another round; so dear to pain such welkin schemes or tone deciding
a person’s interior. to have one last thought this gift I must give those
agonies become maladjustments, or thus I lied as ink bleeds his psyche or rage
has mellowed while not so interested in pleasing too many demons.
