by
roads into spaces such trekking to feel clear. such subtle nuance to have been
better while at issue for one’s blessings. by brushwork or arts by glitter upon
sorrow by beige instead of cellos. would you first die or live as some
misbehaved genius? so medieval such matches or math spelling, it loves you.
born at a baseline or fretting windmills as accursed winners—such torn volume
as vexed mixtures while we emphasize blackness. the industry of wits those
trees alongside our garden our midnight pruning. such energies so tender they
lost as avenues into alleys—a violent morning arguing by sunrise contending
over dirty dishes; so light its feather so real its disdain as caricatures lost
above seas. born to you as you were mother such pluvial analyses. but a
daughter anointed a hunch in your bones so behaved while vibrating a revolution.
so many symbols at our first symphony by signature to inscribe our pain.
surefire displeasure where a person is out-of-bounds, if but a place in
societal margins; as hope would envelope or cadence might chance so sweet a
precious delivery. one never fathoms those leaking spigots while he gets a
special dissonance; as bodies tremble or earth quakes insomuch as a daughter
became a mystic. our metaphors as never this vivid a nation of talkative masks.
