I
earned misery so explained, affixed to ghetto children.
but
yonder those bowels such rugs to love your eyes.
so
dead in me such pleasure in you where adoring seemed so natural.
why
to curse me or afflict kindness while dying seemed casual?
the
gallery is filled those blues blaze while I was struck by countenance.
to
love an aura while unclaimed such proxy or demons.
by
brushwork in clouds where reality is made unclear; to excuse you, to flame in
another, while panic gripped his terror! so medieval so mystic but life appears
an ax while Love needs presence—so flighty such flying such courage.
a
man lost a daughter where Love was psychology, he needed to give that hunch.
I
earned misery as watching too much closeness while Love bathed in attention. so
digitized so angry while no one knew his misery. the baseline of behavior as
looking in eyes to find something transpired: those luxuries or Love’s
concentration or another as sly as pythons; to crush bodies, to suffocate throats,
while Love is sure procrastination.
(there
is ever a reason with normality. it seems they are against the gun. but never
interested in those damn mirrors.)
I
drift into xyst so threaded as gutted while holding strings in an attempt to
balance other people. the industry of pain those wobbling agendas or to watch a
woman that hasn’t quite made it.
it
feels terrific to claim lose-leaves beneath pluvial outrage
—those
deeper databases while a man feels like a damn carnival where faces are painted
in shadows.
such
reaching madness such revelation where years feel like adventures;
nothing
grounded nothing quite secure where others are having life;
the
blood blue ink those purple carpets while a man is disgusted.
the
hate for self while ushering in souls to have built dynasties in the woods.
