uncivilized
human roaming hypostasis or such pure illumination. but a moment as it
dies so much fruit as it lives or an acorn which cracks cultic fever. to have
adored harvest where essence seemed approachable but awe would reveal awesome!
sure death mysticis or wires outlining substance to be that in which it can’t
be in others. I would exist in fiction, I would havoc existence, if but closer
to mágoa; for wretchedness is holiness, which becomes unimaginable fire; as it
hurts towards goodness, as it flies a daughter might sense ecclesial, or
stripped of iron a smelted fury! so cursed in its delivery or too dense to
reach while essence is our piano. such medicinal guidance if but one last
sacrifice while our kind are birds chewing wire. its first statement upon its
cloud if but to reason in its space; by current photo as neurons would erupt
while one might locate its origin: our deep war, so controlled, while partially
at its helm; to become a socket or to erupt at a given second our love ones
asking permission; if but to enter, if but to aid, where something remains
furtive. it was hell at eighteen, to enter those portals, where one was too
drugged to understand. in dear Presence—this deliverance into pain, while so
close She must cause anguish. its beauty in crescents or its anchor with hooks
if but to understand those faraway sparrows. so home to me, a rareness of kind,
while mansions seem to spin above his crib. so provoked to rage or convicted by
gentility insomuch as devastated by nearness pushing away—as hither come
thither whilst oceans flood spirit; a bonus at times a space in skies or too
unkempt to claim absolute horizon!
