by
intonation so abused by science while trying to hold abstracts; theoretical
pain, reduced emotionality, in a world suffering sheer rain. the dead man
walking the lively woman crying the death we adhere to; despite, such unleveled
fire or radiant fright as accursed to create wings; as no one believes or
shadows are walking where relaxing is its myth. so much in flying. so much in
cringing. so split so ruined while someone might give us voice. so poignant so
unstudied while looking at you is painful. so much a raffle or needing one life
while most stagger through moods. the day was long. it has been for weeks.
where nights revolve into anxiety. to know her strength as never a study where
intuition is retreating from adventure: if to impart some gift or to ask a
question while zones shutter or shelter is a myth; that daily person, such
discredited behaviors, or too imprudent those years. to confiscate self, or to
outrun the theft, while awakening/answering self. such a riddle such deep
uneasiness where professionals are making guesses. the expert prying the expert
dying if but to understand something so intimate to the expert. our surly
agendas our few mistakes or so close to reliving, its too far. it becomes
bizarre or extraterrestrial or something eluding a definite definition. so
vital to its soul too elusive to undress or too reclusive to escape.
so unilateral as polemic becomes cuddled where reality must fit tradition. the ax in its stub those treasures so evasive while essence has boiled into vapor, it lives!
