into
essence or breaking sadness too accursed to sing music. or driven so ghostly at
some disappearance. I watched messages or remixed antennas while weary too used;
Love is sleepy or testy where most calculated trauma coming. so captive upon a thought so credulous
into absence while we condemn others.
some deserve leniency but what of existence where it was altered?
I walk
skies traveling in silence with none pleading for compatibilities. most remain unhealed or unsteady or angry;
for anger is segue, proven explosive, many prefer it over love. such obscure
language. consideration is called love. where most are used, then asked to
depart. but seldom into a nightmare,
two discover essence, while feeling incompatible. such melody such an internal voice as
needing a palm steady through darkness; the kiss made supernal or war while sweet
if but to address a complex reality.
I knew comfort, as I knew naivety,
so unsure of how we define love: if it’s raw passion, which never hurts, we
have a hard time claiming it; if it’s raw trials, where reality is shaky, then
we all knew it.
a level of maturity, as opposed to
irritability, where one feels like a beggar.
it seems like clarity where we
often wonder if but to create something difficult. so sharp to temple such
glory in affectation where attentiveness is called love. so rare we hear of a
soul so possessed two couldn’t breathe otherwise. as novelty commands a hand in
disarray so suffused it’s hard to pass venom.
I admire
something I can’t see—it tends to reknit me.
