such
wild chatter where tigers watch they mock the times.
I
break wishes listening to serpent dialogue such dear tyranny.
what
have we given by sociality or cosmos or intuition?
by
haunt aloof to beginnings while life was more those years. it was shock or
surprise or damage so irrevocable. you were but a palm so convinced as a
returning entity. the days were longer the bears were talking to dream in the
mind of coyotes. so gentle to its eyes so coarse to its behavior such a raw
instinct.
one
would be for soothing, another for taboo, where another would be for an
unbarred carnival. such underbrush as a man flickers a spark where he remembers
he never over-satiated his position. to always want more as never satisfied
where death touched leaving behind wilderness; those woods those trees such
auburn bushes.
so
much a simplistic hug while reverberating into resounding miseries. such a
feeling like an estranged granduncle or a person we truly can’t live without or
a woman we realize we couldn’t seek happiness;
for
it never lives it filters graves for everyone has died so crucial a
resurrection.
by
sourness or soreness a man complaining about something proving itself as
natural. but longing into winds those caramel eyes while if but one level we
might outwit destruction. by unfettered or un-drab endeavor to plant a field
where we dance in celebration;
our
heaving hearts our abolished anxieties such deep infinite temperance. to have
beauty or death while souls are conglomerates; where moments are storages such
storehouse consciousness while a second becomes all one might live for;
as dusty skies at
dusky twilight enter into mesmerization. or some being so low while anything
seems appropriate to latch on to. but a talkative bear or holy leopards while a
man is naked in those deserts. to have insecurities to need completion where
all desires are bubbling in desperation. such a narcotic feeling such sweet-sounding
acid or aches in bowels while one locates a savior. the grace of an island
those lions laughing or hawks speaking from the heart—as eagles chime-in as
speaking a language but all one might know is aloneness. that force as in
evilness or angelic where honesty requires its soul; such raw blankness such
feudal nights while I never met one that way—those elements while I aggrandize
in such an unrealistic cement. those lavish smiles if but forever ingratiated
or satisfied beyond the scope of fantasies. such a dependent enterprise, if but
our miracles, where our center is so singular.
