Manic Eczema

 

so gritty so nasty such a mistake—to cringe in blood to die in leather, oh Jesus! to touch soul to hear drums so pregnant with mania. a world bleeding so indistinct while a man might crave crazy. too much for a psych too dear a mental page too gutted the psychologist; so beige so gray while the city is a desert. to adore mother or to hate mother while a man says, he has no issues!

                                    those colors so seated as emotionally dripping acid. the late nights the liquor or raw, pure cocaine.

                                    such fumes as granny cried such an atypical schizophrenic.

                                    so abused by you so flippant with you to imagine purity when beaten my ass. as met a woman so tripped-out to imagine color would baptize discrimination.

                                                as a fool running to hit a fence so much addicted to motion. to laugh, God, to die, Mary, where Mechtilde was beauty upon raw ass science.

                                                I loved like a maniac it was hell in its reach where a white woman broke the existential! so morose, Psych, so low today while tears swell; was it good was it passion does it laugh in silence; such rare questions, while Love is a sage a guru, at God’s Hand to kill me!

                                                a daughter at pains a man unchanged where something still behaves as a lie in torque a crime blasted, for disappearance is a machine, so broken so bloody where a bullet was pierced, or Love so crooked as unseen or beauty that disrespects humanity.

                        it might take dying to come back with little in consideration; but a vignette or an old sonnet at pains to restudy your soul—the flame in guts those flowers variegated so familiar it feels good.

the panic room as making raw fever to die as a man would elixir—those pure berries as akin to suffering a woman suffocated by politics. a new employee a raging manager while he hated your very eyes; such a countenance such fury if but to splay by familiar ruins. so punctured, Love, trying to escape, Love, where something in manic memory a gut inside—those rare weeds those sea-monsters while a man wrestles a gila monster.

such cavity chasing such animal baptism, where adoring your heart brought me to dear deaths.

             

                   

 

 

 

Gurus Face Humans

 

I was peace-breaker or (peacemaker), angry at humans, with much to inspect or (recollect). It was filthy or dreary or callous—as needing victims if but to exist—we shouldn’t dispute that!

            the guru might die those demons might appear while so strong was rehearsal or (graves). by Greek goddess or an Israelian sphinx as destroyed or searching feyly; to wash in sulfur to wipe a nosebleed or guzzle a gallon of shame.

            by opus performance as angered softly, for a woman wouldn’t relent. so much in bobcat pains such office in a dispute while it becomes an arrow. to dislike a man to despair his existence while one might visit. it’s never as we imagine. we get closer. as to sense our disappointment. but Love was elixir or Love was anxiety while resistance demands growth. a man plays his drums, a woman is fetching, they make miracles in an instance. if to outsoar inadequacies if but to apologize while nothing can be rewound: those laughs those giggles where she was cutting edge.

            as time would devise its elements or pain would give advice if but ruined for others. a circuit by conformation a ceremony by crosses so pollinated by skies. to look as never a man could to lust as only a woman would while dear thoughts churn asphalt. to imprint souls so by nonchalance while we like our situation: by loudness in men by needs to feel dampness while we assert it has gone too far. such jazz in our mourning such respect in boldness while we prefer — you know me later.

such sculptress palms such a city of thieves while reality might be a koan.

We Vacuum Each Other

 

the essence we expect the plight we undergo while sick or sucked in. those polite figures such rich emotion where life is dependent upon those gestures. by gut to phone Jesus by rot to touch pavement so cursed a feeling too hectic. so drawn to confusion such raw manipulation where existence is sought in exchange. such tender behaviors so unreasoned while everything in life is in this moment. by baggy eyes or temperaments where a person must act accordingly. 

loving you was easy. you made it difficult. the sun was banished for a century.

I adore mind-shakes or rattling or something periodical. (he was a blessing. he exhausted every emotion. he would live for you.) it made sweet beginnings or long returns for minor investments.

 

lost life in you lost seasons in moonshine while stars abandoned those last emotions. so tragic to spend one’s life under the assumption that everyone caters. such real confusion such a disservice where society barely would notice us. to give but insufficiently, for one is not dying, where moods shift in expectation. just a need to feel just a desire to be appeased where one isn’t concerned with that. inverted skies blue eyes or hazel a run into existence. so much a need so rich a success while one is expected to swim. “ours belongs to humans. humans cater. if they refuse to, they’re callous.” it gets harder it gets easy where essence is resistance. 

I met one in agonies but too functional to resist. to admire her strength, to dislike her angle, while life has become rare experience. I met another so defensive, we sense emotion, where fear becomes a hormone. a person takes interests, as we exhaust her, where one is running by indecision. 

“what you lost means nothing. what I feel is imperative. accept total disinterests.”

 

the sun was those eyes the heart was flooded more emotion too much if but to handle. to walk in my shoes to follow my tracks such reversed sentiments. to die at words to fret decencies while it’s differences that exhaust. to have a hunch where rules are sadness while I couldn’t give uncertainty. the feeling they groom if but to capture in a sense what cameras miss. revving to adore you or sought by interior ghosts where every room is a universe. the same texture, pure exhaustion, where only one person smiles. (I think about mother. this vacuum this chair in middle an ocean those tides too low.) I remembered her eyes. I remembered discomfort. to fret when it appears. (as trauma has particles or tentacles or it becomes an octopus.) too much to film too little to give where nothing is enough. the drowning skies, as rain pours down, while earth is first destroyed—before anchors are tugged upward, before a person unhooks its victim, while being needed feels good. so much in exchange for intimacy, where it means, we might die without our vacuum.     

Skateboarded Houses

 

the culture faces unrest. our souls, zealous creatures—our minds hayfields. the legacy of cotton the heritage of Africa or soft beauty as it dances. to whittle personality or hanging from neurotransmitters so whet upon a vessel. those miracles so short as living such raw feelings. whelmed by attraction to imagine sheer happiness while both are disguising tragedy; as it seeps out as it cringes daily where faces twitch such dear trauma. to unsay something incredible to wrestle something terrible while our world judges, dear disgraces! so unnoticed or boldly overlooked where I met too many to count. as unknit machines or rethreaded victims while we now say, survivors. such marshy/smoked filled eyes; too dear to reimagine; while a man might adore another culture. to love like languishing or to dodge a bullet where a man is considered callous; but Angel was sweet such the wearing of femininity while strong in sensuality. I begged for forgiveness, for such unkempt thoughts, but it’s too vital to a woman; as left with filth or gathered for redemption where one is aware of all one would hide. the troth of rain so pluvial its passion while weary or wavering like innate dragons.

upon a locket so fair a rose so fortunate its destitution. to fear you, such an affectionate person, where she lives for experience. we say it differently, we don’t say sex as derogatory, we say those we have loved. the pain we have shared the humanity we have lived the angst we carry born of society. such freedom to be, while it’s more to be, where society judges too much togetherness. such social aglets such dear psychology while one just wants out of those boxes. or sure into a family, hoping it swims more, where something may become uneasy: such travail in swooning, such license in unconditional, while we presume certain answers are self-explanatory. to walk those waves to color those vestibules or to end on a casual note.

Much Loses Its Importance

 

rounded promises at chorus fusion as met or knit its peak. so confronted such alienation while those running feel injustice. by raids on life or graves to exist where JZ sided with humans. such penalties on blackness such forgetful minds where Trump has never eaten gumbo. by foggy glasses by promiscuous appetites while living is mostly selfish. one deal determines our actions. or a closed door validates distrust. where souls are confused.     I reminisce where pain was vivid or politics were outlined.     so strong in boots so affirmed in ghettoes while it seems souls are aggressive.     but dear family, it was best our interests, while such respect was lost.   

such wealth in eyes such romance in losing to flee in sight of accounts.

 

I was smitten such fabulous cries by deep dark depression. as fled his mind in search of acceptance it becomes an untapped market. 

I never could but art is politics where we shouldn’t look at appearance. it becomes corporate it becomes a ladder while others are mere faces. the answer wasn’t her the message wasn’t him while fire is gathered afore camps. 

so easy to condemn such pressure to remain while Love just needs to feel special—in foreign eyes as universal where she might behave; indeed, more suitors more diamonds such respect as a romantic, seductive minx. by flame we summons something too raw to control. the vanity of our existence the travesty of our bible or the ravished sensation of our arts.   

Gray Sunshine

 

you may expect observation or fawning or moderate self-depreciation. you may expect a new sun a morning moon or talkative habits—where they scream for closure they beg for acceptance or something warm, cozy, or pliable.

life is beauty of sin of minds running through dungeons.

so confused it’s so damning or insecure while most have damaged by negligence. sweeter chimes or fluid vines while your world is unrealistic—those snake bites those snake ears or destruction looking like normality.

so maladjusted or like his reflection where a person pleads like losing; anything becomes deep emotion, those leaves are winning, people are pleased to win amazements.

it would never get clear it would be disfavored while it remains normal.

such a shift in desolation so much a missed appraisal as creatures become feelers; by dear tragedy by wretched curse, a man is stuck in between spaces. so much she gave so righteous she lives with myriads running or churning or set aflame. to look at me to feel so haughty with such disgrace at those heels.

framed fevers or beloved daughters or too much to appease.

to imagine sidewinders or such negativity while ignoring those roots: by poison berries, by venom apples, by welts or wounds as never it leaves!

veils or pastel grays such nightsong such abashment. a mere soul so devasted such hurt or pain or shivers. by scars from strikes or infliction upon a green sky. eons of dynasties or abuse without thought where most pain remains unspoken; to need to exist; to need approval; with mother as a raw influence.

by jungle into a nightmare or needing such an image while everything is so perfect.

as souls unwrapped as music unsung while screaming it echoes into silence. no one is listening. no one is running to war. everyone is just asking for submission.

they are pressed to care or imposed upon when giving while a person suffocating must still obey.  

Skate On By

 

Next of Kinship—the Gravity of that—So much on Shoulders!

 

back to graveyards or treasured church-grounds at The Last Eucharist—by hyena laughs by gregarious wolves or egregious dingoes. too much to slowdown so raced by dejection so angry with skies—the film blinking those tales splayed while one gives life to a fable. an account for misery such red blooded Southerners as nothing meant to change!

at love like thunder or maps like feelings those roads too long to trek. I was baptized his eyes glistened so mad about damn near everything. so crooked a straight-line such a contradiction. the feeling in pain those days with a smile so cursed over the latter. to count me in, to win a grand, while hesitant to leave the room. as kites sit or coyotes are tamed where memories produce visceral emotion. a daughter in soul a father alienated while he ponders this closeness component. oh how to feel how to chase should a man become unbalanced? so much deficiency as scars sit in slots so mad at the way she cares—the love the dog the poodle—as fugitives from emotion but yearning for bestial sexuality … to drag an emotion to ignore an attitude to pay rent, skate to Wing Stop, as headed into a soul-zone.

by hourglass to feel mortality while it hurts to live forever: no closure, no answers, about as crazy as a schizophrenic jaguar.

sipping at noon. it’s been a long ride. we just touched Vegas. so many into a coma such railing to exist while pragmatism is ruling nations. so mad about it. such deep deception. while it becomes such as being caught! such ham with cheese, as abused an adolescent, where a tear falls looking at a pineapple.

furious freezers while Love is sensitive so accosted by waves of a colored observation.

I hit Texas laughing at beauty as we sailed to Louisiana. I hit gravesites giggling about spells while a man is too damn possessed. to have felt it while they watched where they induced it. such false power. for he can’t alone! where loving you is rude!

advanced humans while touchy humans so mad about atmosphere. as Love read, Love had a feeling, we skate on by!      

—or a person one would give infinity!

 

so much mystery such horror in bones by dear unlacing. to face your eyes with hell unleashing us while one afar strikes our hearts. so celebrated so deeper an image such years moving by problems—those gut furies those kleptic disasters such soft musical fragility. so unbaptized so much to fiction while one demonstrates such more than was reasoned.

            I could rebalance in tears too genuine to mention. at diamond gates or tailgating mistakes such willingness to croak again.

            so sought in demonization as a bad colored man where some have sold independence. thrust its fire fought its fury while sick in science to admire serenity; a true sobriety where it includes behavior as opposed to some saintly ass psychopath. (to have met you so many distractions while we fight to assess appropriately. the venom in its angel those demons so relaxed as if being here isn’t new; some Kantian brain some Nietzsche fate while most admonish our legacies.

            to have you where others damaged faith as a man might try madness.)

            it never fails me, as some weird creature, I admire in order to fault-find.

it must be fear or undressed in vulnerable nakedness; our intention our sacrifice while I was baptized in a tub. years would fly souls would cringe a man would come to underappreciate existence.

the charity of unforgiveness. those mirrors in hindsight. to realize it could be like superglue. to adore like living to love like winning while the guitar has snapped it halves. so deathless so sweet where true intimacy only needs its passion. so deceitful. so precious. while too much a reason to aflame our skies. such fireworks such detail while I lost us inside.

Vera Wang sophistication such rich euphoria as a man might see depression. so lost those wings—as a soul sipping raspberries—or a person one would give infinity!      

so many reasons as to die for pain such a lovely creature.

 

it’s cold anxiety while managing peaks such differential. such compassion such fierce rivers while more than a waterfall. such suspension or one reason while America is on Fast Food; a quick order, it denotes passion, while some address the recipe. another lesson another fire while we never understood caves—those deeper regions those dialogues inside where something feels ashamed of what it might crave. so afraid to grip life so much a devastation while we feel so guilty. but he never fathomed she never knew the flame was uncontrollable. to sit it out to discuss with strangers to gain participation. a younger soul a rolling soul a verbal soul; to pretend feelings to plague anxieties to love like it felt delirious. to make it work to always trust to adore more than possible. our Africa, our Asia, our Spain musicians. At Mexico to cross lights while Australia becomes exotic. such miles in Europe as to fret arrival so uncomfortable—to love but society so rude or critical; however, such racing speed into a balloon while we learn more lessons. so close I see you so afar I call you so under-cured I worry. to know our infatuation to outlive our pash where it’s over but we die to come back. the feeling in me the rain in you the heart screaming while it rages. the mind playing stickup the robbery in his soul the thief running with intentions; to summons Plato too many to count such raw anguish, it churns. rereading Nikki so unspoken where we delineate careers: I disappear where thoughts are giants or so silent in mentality; the week it was life the month it was pain while many say derogatory things. so much to adore you, so Aristotle inside, a woman with Kierkegaard’s I.Q.; so much a Shakur rose, so much a Panther’s observation, while we mix, mingle, or maze through attraction. 

at times, I need you as feeling vulnerable, so surprised that, you commend me. so curious about existence, so existential, so much hurting—those blue seasons those autumn winds while summer was winter; such panting inside so much we need as in each other if but to fret our emotions; to die at your lap a face facing scents while so intoxicated; the lesson of the flame the pain in the absence while realizing I could shoot some voltage; brown cries or torque green eyes or hazel a penalty to laugh; our abandoned childhood so new back then while Love was cute. I needed a human. she came through. we dyed our evening. to believe in such a begonia to live like Zen as accused of sensitivities. the armor of the hurt rose, the frankness of the defensive zinnia, the sorrow of the jamesia. so many reasons as to die for pain such a lovely creature.    

Unsilent Dragon/Silent Camel

 

I swim grayness to live as hounds or coyotes or wolves. gregarious souls or anti-society souls while they call us abstracts. I dream of some person. I see her laughing. the needs we have. as laced in fury or disturbed by beauty where it seems so ugly. indeed, he runs a risk or risqué soup as cupped in an invisible palm. such nail wounds such to sit while reality struggles. our caves like liquid our screams like fatal while falling I was caught. so amazing in us so devastated in us as creatures running into sunshine. Love was curly or dreary I knew not the sorrow of Love. our behaviors as young asphalts so awesome a feeling; to dredge up some curse to arrange our eyes while filled with terror; so gorgeous so distracted while anything sounds soothing. to fret a center to need reassurance where one person isn’t enough. a plan to escape a sky flipping such rabid concern. our daughters giggling our hearts warm our wives reknitting society. so much in hands so cured for seconds if but our bodies to full confession.

so delicate to sense it, where it dawns with clarity, but ours may be susceptible to flights. indeed, the greed of the shark the hells of the tiger those dragons on a trip to silence. as uncured meats or uncooked pasta such a snap so fragile too easy. such tug-of-war, a man to his best performance, with orchestra or symphony or aria; so done with existence so aloof to reality while studying her, nonetheless. such a feral feline such favor in hells while hooded a thief stealing travesties. so much in you so lost at a second while the world is screaming apologetics. such frustration such fury to realize our excuses for behaviors. as a caught fish or an oiled duck, to need major assistance.  

“Want It With You.”

 

by storm such desire if but to become a good man; such agony those wailings as peace becomes mystery. raw intimacy such cursing or cursive walls as whales sit in consciousness. our last argument or it’s so treacherous to forfeit years of lies. the ghosts in me those bridges set aflame while watching Mississippi burn. so southern at nights so northward during days so kleptic at forgiveness. so much receiving so many flames as a man dies to return. silky eyes such raw angst while we felt like virgins: terrible fears true ecstasy as wanting deaths with you. a casual man a casual woman while we became such fury; to hear too much or to give so much while remnants pierce fancy parades. a touch that direction those bones carved by tribes such Africa in its rejects. or fiending hectic dice or livid a squirrel at base instincts filled with misery. if but closeness, it must be waterfalls, to desire you like winning: those head-storms those anchors or what a man can never unveil; for truth is there, it can’t get closer, for it’s a fugitive from feelings; such pudding as it cries, to embrace aloof dungeons, while Love hates herself. something normal, this curse in humans, while being unlikely for fire; so regathered so cured such blackberries—as fruit would unravel a palm upon an apricot if but strawberry lotion; the oil of beasts those wanton hankerings while a filthy man would convert. so hellish into repentance such venom towards freedoms while every man needs manumission. the doctor at cures those professors at screams or lawyers shirking conscienceness. to have glory to have some story while Love wasn’t listening. the soul at its hearts, those violets at skies, if but to relive in you!

The Skies Might Scream

 

some attachment, for we die attachment, while wiggling away from attachment. I’d rather by love, or by need, a man fumbling his wings; passing years or romantic soil a tussock dry with moisture. by navigation or terror the haunt became sweetness. as remains rot or feelings intense, where a person understands one’s wickedness. “You know by illness, so be careful,” where we take more truths from strangers. I noticed instability or unevenness where it was simple to ignore us—by dark horizon by electric voltage or simply opting out. so much before time or such a hectic marriage where no one understands us. we die deliberate skies we puncture screaming lungs so dear a cigarette those seconds. a cringing woman so unthreaded where nothing becomes soothing. such visceral words by interior webs while breaking old dragons—those fevers as gusts those winds as mayflies our swamps filled by marsh. to scud faster or whisk in meters as so adapted to learning crystals. by mind-caves or ocean mountains such algae on our affairs; tough jerky a raw beer or days feeling more that horizon; as crazy souls so thrown into us where it’s wild, we might fret each other. was it terror, or satisfaction, to have disavowed such innocence? was death glorious, so much so, it was fed to an infant? was it stillborn passion, or it might have been, such liquor to his gums? true deviation or his life on trial while too many felt it; by fatidic (prophecy) pain those ghetto rivalries while most hate the hard struggle. it must be easy. it must be quick; for too much time is room for investigation. but neither here nor there when a man finds her. so much is familiar—so much is different—albeit, all with sameness, a man is addicted. those eyes, Kunis. such fierce, Prepon! or years at his screams.         

Where Two Paint Art

 

something frightening in love given. some sort of tension, some tragic mythos. I grab a pillow I see a pedestal I cleave to training wheels; for love is protectant where it might hurt so close to a human vassal. as travesty in beauty or humans must forgive where anxiety might bleed its sun. I walk yonder big blue grass or sugarcane beyond its habitat. a few answers a few minutes while missing you is necessary. most require it, but some ignore it, where we see beauty or perfection; our grotesque mandates our trapped eyes where if fire water must be pursued. a pool of lost emeralds the lost & found as I dug into a box—to find while falling to lean while broken if but too heavy to carry; the forgiveness of dragons those gates as lethal while I memorized most of those facts. such a fool in public so ungathered with pieces floating in the breeze. by gorgeous restraints such possible protection while released into unfamiliar flame. something frightening in love given. some sort of rawness. as energy would free itself. a small essence a large lesson where darkness steals light. such in guts or roaming miles too secluded to make decencies. as a losing creature, to win his sins, while repenting upon diamond promises. by gray guilt to feel it tugging while running down a frantic highway; the strength in power by love for its kef such reasonable ratios. where it frightens for it means much while it lives transgression. our habits attached to personalities insomuch as an upheaval is necessary.     

 

Music Divorces Old Memories

 

those unspoken cues such brown diaries too sure it gets better. by green-turquoise ocean or ferrets playing chase or dying becoming solidity: pieces of failure or fragments of winning while unrealized; to ponder life to have existence or soft into caricatures. it might be you so dear to soul while we fret over treasures. sweet eyelashes or beige gloves or sudden a determined opinion. to have some person, at such a disjunct reality, nonetheless, to probe that space behind consciousness: lost forever unfound or running deserts to die looking for what we took. “Just adore me, despite anything sensible, where I might pity you.” so concerned in that such helium to drown while oxygen is so low. I have never felt it as others feel it—either more to feel it or less to feel it or so comfortable in midst of observation. (I wanted a woman. I understood imposed losing. where a man defeats his ambition. by stark silver or tan white as days crucify legacy; while skies judge clouds, or clouds judge earth or stars judge planets—it becomes what we assert, everyone is better than everyone else!) so hectic in you. it’s like hell in you. while knowing it matters nothing to you. (too sweet in spaces seated like power so fierce in Clarks.) the cave is gentle its scent wafts, I’m faced by mind-dragons; such a cure for losses such a run into whiteness while I haven’t seen but a woman: social graces, deep dignity, so aloof to being captured: a husband a son a daughter. such sickness in a poet, while one should skip further, if but to find newness of manipulation; as asking for permission while it seems timid in such a way it builds trust. to feel comfort to die a smidgen while alive a begonia in bushes. our terrible confrontation our works in fires while angry it turned away while winning. the fury of the professor the existence of the tiger while getting a straight answer is often difficult. but life seemed together, as to get into that space, where nothing is faithful, but he never knew. (to ask while waltzing, such pain in its risk, while assessed for weakness!)  

I Was Sick Those Years

 

by lesson we mean pain, so trite to confess it, too contrite to live it. I devastate in problems I exist a lie I adore in private. Love is mythical or mystical or an essence bent on power. so darling to see so dear to hear while a hart pants at its river. by violin to study by chants to awaken to say it’s more than friendship. like a ghost, at that moment, I was just screaming her name. so failed at it. so gray with it. Americans don’t like intimacy. a hard claim, a vacuum on life, so promised to adore this vagueness. to prove in me to die in me to exhaust a feeling. too mysterious a harem in her sights while each is for a different reason; to love this woman to share this woman while fighting a need to dominate, or control, or possess this woman. like new Huaraches or an old trombone or ghettoes in winter—those loquats those grapes those Armani denims; indeed, to look at a person to rectify an emotion while it felt good to laugh—so forgotten such Versace a young adult reading Deontology or Dianetics or wrestling Dialectics; a cold machine a small crush where Love was giggling. it was innocence it became muddy it was oh so beautiful. mother laughing father gone the neighbors barbequing. I now itch the flesh is bloody the might is righteous. to admire an armor to anxiety an art while anchored to a false beginning. the man in the Asian the woman in the African the American in Trump. so turned sideways such a sidewalk or tears in some aloof bucket. I need to go deeper. I need to tell the truth. I would die for a woman honest in her horizon.

so much Gabbana so much Hilfiger such a Negro trying too hard. to laugh with Love to ignore the rain for I need another lesson!    

Uncertain Weather

 

would to passion so accursed where adoring you is made angst; such flame as it rises where it could never be us. by miracle our bodies so lost—no keys—the engine is raging. such torque or tyranny or torture—as found near lakes a man ate sulfur a woman redeemed while dying—the race as uncured while fire was sweet distraction; boundless beauty untold luxuries where sadness has screamed, it desires revenge—those terrible branches such terrific cries if but so much to win such losing. as benthic oceans, would survive its beginning, a man might run with caimans. at some height some chemic morphing to realize where or why or how it happens; panting at ponds or an unclimbed miracle where a soul is aching for freedom. such public privacy as assumed for abstracts—so disgusted so concrete the countenance is scientific. as proud creatures to have our thoughts where to listen as walking northbound. by presidential anguish to sound so different while one would never escape his corps. such gelid scars such desperate attempts while we ask desperate questions. (to write off every death as a misclassification—it might just work!) 

to need approval or to die alienation while it meant nothing before you. but a drowsy woman but a reeling woman while devastation is crazed into lunatics; the bounty for deserts the mountain for music with symphony extinguished by sound. so latent or listless where words unthreaded his ego. to know I need you as needing respect while dangerous does as deceit would exist!

wheezing or numb or too aggressive to fit in.

where mother just died or father followed while dreams nudge or scream or attack. by volume by spoiled fields where ancestors would dance in silence.

so shredded so endemic of catastrophe while America would seem shocked; our amazing leadership our amazing demonstration as refilmed or trying unable to harmonize. such fuel in daughters such zest for humans so destined to recreate—as a living vassal or a dying vessel so vandalized inside.      

Confusing Fire

 

if you taste satisfaction as it lives shall it depart? so fusty as old-fashion creatures too engaged to flop. but life her secret her appetite! to adore with fury to zero-out while falling endlessly. to appreciate disaster to become evil such hands irreparable. by dungeon by area by welting concern. inner as inmost those dwelling eyes while I’ve said so little: those porch cries those patio wails where this is living; to hurt like abandonment to cringe like a sight horrible while frankly abused. by raw fatigue as Time would giggle where spaces are horseback. so nameless pursuing identity with realms facing oblivion. by mystic ingredients or cold isolation where it belongs to gray colors. a feast for hunger or poverty enacted where one needed to locate beyond freezing. such uncooked treason to have died too early while a lady might try one more again. so hopeless for love so over with dying where hunches are taken seriously. arcadian roses Peruvian magnolias while life is beautiful. tectonic endurance sea-sulfur shoulders where it’s wild how we endure.

                                    by rustic paradise so under pressure, where images float or dragons appear by curse or angel such dreary skies; but wealth is kingdom while death is manumission, if not to unfreedom.

at predawn so secluded where days re-sense core meaning. those pieces those wings while giving might come to hurt. to watch insects to drift in memory such reason to try undercurrents.

                                    at topaz ceilings or primrose ideals so lost or re-featured or a space filled with dragonflies. an edited photo a dear deterrent while minds are filtering pigmentation. a polygraphed bedroom a spirit tambourine or a timeless watershed. 

a cassock for her a robe for islands or a travesty for one unprepared.  

 

at noon tide those feelings as a man might exhaust his nerves; or look at agouti eyes filled with nausea, confined to adoring myths. bloody garments tarmac palms or Jesus feigning by souls. an ideogram as a symbol so cello into a night-scare. a maniac gaze, a picturesque smile, as a man becomes a statue. so overborne so hazy while painting us is by challenge. into Europe-Kenya or Africa-Australia to fret in hurt. our California yogis as running into fierceness as absolute melted steel. if to feel satiated at some incredible miracle while fighting to hold those cravings.   

Fire Pool

 

so tentative or watchful so alert in conversation. the soul to the daughter the skies to the father while unraveled trying our discourse. to have died in a person or coming back so displeased—where mother was refuge until it broke clouds such radiant silence. at grandpa wandering at feelings so cursed while wildness is too much for strangers. a bond desecrated where trust is void or colors are plaid while life is its rainbow. but Love was mystic or cures were jagged while over there, one is jealous. so little in me, to actualize forgiveness, or to fix an issue in that region. so, more to vanishing or more to irritability or reclaimed while unclaimed in self; the destitution those remorseful eyes while so tentative it stands but wobbles.

I ride waves or doorposts or signals at lights. such furious fire such wrangling souls while it means so little. true desperate disputes truer eyes to come to comfort so lost over gentility. a map in me so graded it bleeds while pure conflict comes at each meditation. surefire disgusts while humans feel terrific a blessing mother gave us. if but to love or adore or praise a daughter while something sickening has disrupted by its brilliant division. so low at points with hell skiing in me or tarmac over his soul. so dark so black so murky—by marsh or mayfly while it means so little. I get lost in its concentration such strangers as we commit each other. certain volume certain cries, if but music so sweet a lower essence. by casual despair to have written by soul while censured by those that hate Jesus. too much a galaxy or cacophonous frustration as to sense her guts with such vehement discontent. as disconnected creatures, so raffled to insane opinions while too normal to like anyone. a private resistance an irrelevant resistance while a meeting here, a greeting there, as never my facial appearance, come remedy. by running passages or patches of pavement adored for draining over cobblestones.

the scream is a past life the present is a dream the future is unstudied. so much soil such fire in hell so accused so battered while it lives, it must die. by cycle to have soul by rhythm of notes so addicted to perception the cult of the body the liquid in satisfaction or a man must humble self in order to fit qualities at baffled zones such intuition so much we dislike our breaths. the voice in you the rain in you the captured wilderness to die again to ask a question while it destroys our weathers. so slanted so polarized so stuck under an umbrella—to relive to ask a snail if but to feel so calm the hot pavement the long day where it took an hour to make three steps. so possessed so attuned as asked his brains for closure to kneel or pray to sharply react while it was passive fury. to love or manage love while aeipathy has never been a question. if to love so many to need a secret while one worries about those spaces. or hating a man, for no clear reason, or he trespassed a nerve. so irritable so cagey such lies built an empire—to crumble a nightmare such psychology so much a misfit. too much to assess you or too familiar to exonerate you while it becomes so much temperamental oldness. those limestone lights those prints while manic where one is a bit grand in his appraisals; to uncook a feeling or to fret suspension as one asked, “Why does it matter?” or writing for freedom to uncork an issue where color dictates perception—the feud of science those inferior hunches while self-consciousness makes a person hate you.     so much on your side so infused by winters as one running your race; those powers in our features those minds so wise while I behave so unwisely. the pain is much the absence is too withering while fusion is so explosive. the ravaged soul the bending fire or winds trapped in a box; such needs for conformity such if to appease a stranger while most so much needs to explode the box. this wooden frustration those steel habits as time would reveal it was more to hurt me!

We Never Escape The Signs

 

into rum sacrifice or vanished to ghetto negotiation or trying harder to efface his ghetto. 

if but to fit some dream if but ingratiated or better, if but a reality where adequacy is never explained.

an uncut silence a rouge’s violin such passage into reeling uncertainty. to do as you, to partake of you, where we never speak to insecurity.

so needy for you, can’t find you, I suppose the world is busy with you. a claim in me to want such desire to imagine hands touch secure locations. our elephant eats portraits our snow is filthy as dedicated to reneging on its promise. our palms our wrongness, we never catch up, while houses are haunted by excellence: no time to resist, no time for remorse, while an avalanche is dicing—too redressed fretting nakedness where society has met pollution—a field painted black a sky raining blackness a white diamond painted turquoise-black; such arrangement such glorious wilderness to have thought of you differently; tugging relentlessly rebuilding dynasty where life is legendary; so sleepy lately so heavy lately as

mother’s day is coming. but sweet joy such rehearsals a daughter gave a chance to a heathen. so bled out so disruptive so uncaged. those years scraping bars those doors extra secure those anxieties at opening. while never safe never secure so managed in such a moment. to outgrow adoring you, in spite of beauty in behavior, to know you became such a human. by pith to break man by curtain to seduce man or by history to loathe man; by brooks to flow by creeks our rituals by woman to remain confused.

 

is it permanent? does it claim exclusivity? are we acting like children? such furious foundations such grappling with gnats or such happy depression. such a dissonant ambition such tone, lies, or musicality; too content such schematic or pure, raging stigmata. to have needed you to have wanted pain if but to touch some avenue racing with displeasures; by gift in glass to realize steel while you became putty. our disorganized eyes our dear departure if but to claim something edifies.

The Portrait Is Dreaming

 

such rounded screams such asphalt with sediments underneath tears. a captured body a feline ambition so destroyed by beauty. breathing oxygen laughing at meraki so understood. those eyes seeming lazy but so accurate to have dynasty in a season. try to live us or try to escape us where another doesn’t know your silence. abandoned to hopeless redeemed in a gesture so much to live our island. by castles unstudied or tolerant discrimination where some love raw newness: a man to his destiny a woman to her arts where some people dine on society. so ambivalent so acrobatic where anxiety comes in its realism. a feeling as it haunts its soul, a draught in its summer such miracles come winter. never such a remarkable curse so attuned to a psyche such language as never sweeter: zinnias next to mushrooms so uncanny while wildfires rage into autumn. by mirrors for mayhem or motion for disarray so determined to become incredible. if to arrange by emotion if but to sink into a feeling where two never create a thought. to adore more in falling too authentic to redeem while normal people have something in common. by fixture or fragment or flame; too much induction too much a need as for something proving its merit daily; where souls are hungry, while it isn’t your fault, but passion needs something un-give-able: righteous insistence an anger against doubts or a deep rededication to allegiance. our furious calmness or unlit fury as it erupts trapped in a cedarchest. to run into dangers to conceal rationalization as one becomes some boxed-in part of freedom. by rice paper or origami or an essay when one never answered Pain’s ambition: by fruit of its night, by 5^th grade so prepared for technical dialogue. or by such phantoms, as a room we just left, where our instructor is Mrs. Wraith.      

Iridescent Patches

 

some delicate deliberate piano. too hectic passing ignorance. so spatial its chorus. to have in arms what we can’t find where essence fornicates. by drum by piccolo by midnight cricket. too enlove to take pain or too violin to find truth while you need pity. such music in deceit while it felt goodness as to hear so much extra symbols. as gathered for brunch our officials watching as to crumble screaming such literature. such agony such morose beauty by malaise or ages too many acres. some are too affixed. some are too disposed. or on causes so many doubts. as giving life to those few. as cello is such melody. to arrive with me—our burst of laughter. I was midnight driving. Sunset was alive. I met a professional. we dined or played agonies where it ended abruptly.  — we need absorption even consumption or we grow angrily. by battle of its bottle by bottomless seas such serenity in surrendering. —

but a deliberate host or bread with wine or such insistence we hesitate to believe. such languishing language such serene shame where it was considered ironic. so much to carry, where men want everything, too thin makes for pure disgrace. by dear convolution, to whore out a Continent, where mirrors were on hiatus. a beat to a drum an old confrontation where most ignore it at this point. but fury for gods or oceans for spirits or land for mistakes.   

 

Too Much Woman His Soul!

 

such a device in you, too aesthetic in you, I mean to emote you. by fragile receptors so rapid a conclusion if ever there was a dance. at wilderness facing a vast decision while it seems like routine. a man must be so much. a charismatic feature. indeed, a forgiving lover. or so distinct.

where age is innocence or brute passion while careful to struggle; such habits such sunshine so scraped by existence. to live seeking you while you’re every woman so smooth such intonation such deep disgrace. “But it’s beautiful to answer graces so much a contender for variety.” our omissions our casualties while it meant more to me. those sprawled answers those feral forests so destroyed for just a moment. hair filed brushes. scented lotions. a pumice stone for heels. those days those window eyes such character in reflection—by maps so much injustice while never a woman so together: a fighter for clarity a mind like judges while morals become uncertainty; or better, such ethics, as cries illumination, while too gorgeous to be left to abeyance.

by miracle to dine by luck to entertain, so sweet an empire; too noticed, at every angle, fretting lines. too much to ignore such ivy legends while I haven’t exaggerated. as never an entrance, without immediate addressing(s), so much one is proud plus devastated.

to have luxury to have clandestine to ache in remote spaces. as a keel is unfastened or determination distorts images, where a soul would first panic. so low or sure at highs while risqué a notch. candles mean little, diamonds are effective, but reality is band. a trite proposal, as several have voiced it, while one was so attuned another snatched his essence. as forever missing reality, an uneasy mind, where youth have become important. such a peak at thirty-five. his destiny at twenty-five. so much our gym dynasties.

words mean so much or so empty where it becomes hobby or passive understanding. so certain to call it love. so sure to remember our disappearance. while a.m. hours are spent analyzing realities. so sweet such nectar so much deeper disputes. while collars are white, clips are gold such dear blue ribbons. muscles so intrusive, reminders so gentle, while it hurts to know inadequacies. our manly minds. our womanly women. so destitute so close!

upon a pocket square while a tear fell, it was anguish to our angels. such wild anxieties such reaching physicality while a man is visualization or illusion or raw uncertainty. some predicament those cherished bouquets while completing a dissertation at twenty-three. by rarity a creature, by fashion a star, by angsts a machine; so threaded by society such an impact on society to enter, conquer or stir power. imported caviar domestic napkins by Italian wines.

early morning jogs, an overachieving nature, or too much woman his soul!

fury can’t capture those fires such force to realize affectation. a damaging word a misleading word, or yet, a watchword. fierce flames such reach in a soul’s eyes while spirits drench in sulfur. to admire so much, to possess so little, while alienating so many. a problem in its poets a glance in Petrarch a fairytale in Kierkegaard.

so much a scream in Pablo or prose set on skies while adoring seems cherished. a thousand-dollar stud. half a home for a Lamborghini. or tuition on a Rolex persona.

if but such reality, in a world so classified, while a man might become a dungeon. such raw behavior, such full lips, such parts we dare not mention. indeed, a lazar world a crazed ability a risqué imagination; such appetite too revved while souls fight or struggle or damn everything in existence.

by fleeting admiration. to adore his classification. while unreality probes most souls!

Fitted Diary

 

by truth you give, it hurts sanity, a man at his brinks. such sweet catastrophe or so harsh its abrasive while a man is naked screaming his love. could you take me in all those colors where time is unrepented? could you love us despite those blue stars—could you take this crane? it tingles softly by prink of theft by dear darkness so underdressed. you would give me truth. it would deteriorate in palms. you would chase dreams to understand. those pressure valves those value theories our desperate arête—

as a man I know us as a spirit I’m weary or as a human I find faults.

it was science or chemistry or some scream outlined in glass; as it would shatter as it would live such raw unforgiveness. such a good human workshop. so enveloped in assessments. where anyone’s perception is everyone’s conception. knees struggling, altars churning, as over fifty candles burn in harmony. a saint for propriety or punishment or passion; to have days in us to alarm us while edges have colored us—

such volume so vexed or content with something nudging: uncooked decisions, kneejerk impetus, where we want back what was lost.

(we don’t say it. it’s one of those words. but Jenny is thinking it.)

we ignore Jenny. we call her strange. Jenny left yesterday.

“The hospital is different. People are watching. I can’t get to myself. We take medicine. It makes us sluggish. I won’t do it again—I swear!”

by lemony language by acidic apples or running rabid through streetcars.

such sweet fury so sore into sourness while seeing us hurts inside. rain is coming cows are grazing something comforting is far those leaves; as souls ungathered while there’s a pulpit, it sits in midst of our city streets.

 

Truth, Good, Bad & Normal

 

by truth we discard truth, in a simple displeasure—as to suggest, “That’s his or her truth.” somewhere with crocodiles or a valley filled by leopards, where one utters, “I don’t change my spots.” a good person might assert something in which the world is a bad place. a bad person might assert a loss of dominant power. where a normal person might assert life is an oyster. but, are people good? or are people bad? moreover, we have pain in us trying to determine what normal is. it becomes a look, a likeness, where a village, despite animalism, swears to life a monopoly on normality.

a scientist is going mad. friends understand. for science is embedded in furies. we decide on what is tolerable or we reject where non-invested while precocious souls are oddities. but what makes goodness inherent? or badness an ingredient? or normality as meaning, against social sins? those questions, aging against time, as antiques remain fragile.

I met lies in nineteen ninety-eight. such a creature. to do existence expecting existence to acquiesce. it isn’t vital, but I make inquiry, into how pain begets happiness?

we ask familiar questions where petals fall come darkness while knowing you has become understandable. or swimming waterless or standing in stillness, where one is silence in dreams. by disappearance into some venture as a man dies to own some luxury. a curious man a deceased man while breathing is taken for granted. those walls such graffiti while palms are clumping soil. a garden in Fiji a Nigerian as wife or days recounting something as it slipped by.

to adore you becomes questionless. to esteem you becomes inherent. but to ignore habits is unlikely. something good is valued—something bad is examined—while many have lived out by best it was offered.

we often say, “I need more.” as if something is waiting. while we know for comforts.

The Night Of The Song

 

in midst of a smile, or tattering laughter, depression might appear. so much to feel you a man detached a soul tottering westward. could you take my place? could you take this chasm? while some are near to deaths. so much to hide from others or so devious in essence while rereading some article. a cigar for innocence a game we might play where one needs something indelicate. such penalty in perception, surefire guilt, while most aren’t changing. one would rid you or divest from you before accepting your discomforts. it’s a thin line. where we play a game. we pretend not to comprehend. but love is science or love is bestial or we misrepresent in order to capture smartness. some feeling in demand some pill-ghost or some marijuana-phantom. as a wraith running as feelings in souls where midway through a sentence, we see a tear. such linguistic debate such a curse gunning while muscle spasms are aching. such threats to our images such self-profession while often it’s us in some indistinct conversation. as it hits ears as it floats or wafts while at shore some galaxy in its horizon—a man will die a soul will live or spaces will be filled with invisibility. as minds crosspollinate or hearts well-deeper some majestic forereaching agriculture. or unbalanced such physicality a moon as it scratches atmosphere—to answer your questions while disapproving of your actions where we prefer nonresistance.

to respond is to be involved while listening to visuals. some control is needed some misrepresentation while we might be generating our sensitivities. as a man is his ingredients or a soul is its undertaking or a woman becomes her logic—with such requirements those stressors where one desires certain treatment. truth as a salad or integrity as a steak while our meal is honestly its essentials. as skies listen as pavement talks so great our invisibility.    

Devastated With You: Dead Without You!

 

by richness in character by waves in souls to listen, love, or languish. such deep emotion so touched to adore where minds dance in midst of wilderness. the wolf in me those coyote eyes in you or the way we create fire. our un-behaved likeness our winter in spring our laughs reaching ceilings. so destitute with you or activated enduring science where a man needs certain forgiveness—for lamp or watts or dimness; by structure of the dragon by intensity of the snake where it matters so little—those flames those lies while I proceed to cherish during darkness; rough hours or distinguished decade lies so cuffed in center reality. to have you as some creator some concrete element some casual thief. so smooth with gems so seductive with arts as an aesthetic creation; to forfeit alabaster to sweeten molasses such deep dreary ecstasy. it would be non-attraction, or it would seep into dynasty, to reimagine things we live for; hourglass clarity, opera scales inside, or crude oil. the valley of the appetite the cake in its oven or those skies cyan-blue. such as deviants to have convergence so careful to treasure our mistakes; to glean from errors to remap our horizon on some lonely road chasing each other. so desolate as to seek those cries where we feel complete. the bandage of the scar the helmet for its war or the vests for our platoon. who would agree those palms so crucified our desertion leading us home; such years discovering needs such pains to find you such traffic lights as human opinions? to have earth for you to seize heaven for us, as creatures so much attached to a false story: where love was innocent so pure as devoid of hands, screams, or eyebrows. but tell of a man, even a woman, where it was picklocks or linchpins as determined by just waiting for perfection.              

Unavailable Sanity

 

by absence or glitter so alive a second in straps. such a straightjacket such cuffs while we fight to get it back. so medicinal so many needles while a Hindu draws his blood. the touch is the frequency the angst becomes the battle. so mythic such a centaur or a griffin half human. so many pieces into our valley while cats are enormous. by comfort or metanoia so deceived by self. I saw a ghost it was late night the psych would call it mental manifestation. such syzygy, aligned in a moment a pen a leaf a miracle. I saw a feeling it waft on high such beauty in ugliness. a nameless man a naked man a numbered man. the coffin of his birth the legacy of his suffering such wilder flowers. thunderous fatigue so low it churns while this is mother’s month. it slipped him so uncritical while fumbling through reasons. a mad feeling a daughter with pride a granny at the pulpit. the hybrid child the mistake in the class the courage we have in protest. by mainstage by gravity or sick a feeling if it would go its distance. we wonder concerning yall we dance despite the wall it comes to a universal street call. by a greenfly so abandoned to ideals while most forfeit critical analyses. so touched by thoughts so aloof to dying where a person forgets those interior struggles. but a blackfly or something unspeakable while he did nothing wrong. such intimidation such blatant moons while love is forged over a lifetime. to wear a woman’s trousers to sport a judge’s cloak or to carry a lawyer’s briefcase—as crazed souls playing our parts while luxury has but one hat. a palm for a hanky a horse for a daughter or healing for hurting—a black island those black diamonds so casual a feeling fretted by spouses. to rethink to negotiate to understand nothing comes without raw fury.               

Vacuum Hands

 

a soul is disconnected, from life, reality, song or style. his tone changes. his weather is passé. he walks as an unrealized specimen. it’s subtle into his air, liquor is tasteless, he becomes rudiments, rules, or compliance. he wishes to gallop, to attain to extraordinary, to float, fly, or form his identity. essence is far away. time haunts or mocks, there’s derision. he reads passages, searching for his spark, something becomes artless—by loss of soul as failing its high-wire or a soul facing retirement. we meet in ourselves these steep inclines those immovable sky spaces; lost in our movement assorted by our emotions where understanding is imperative; our minds desolate our hereness removed our bodies seeming displaced. smiles are distant or impassive or alarming by recognition—as part muted or unedited such raw, feral material. so instinct to unlive so destroyed unwillingly or re-studied without mastery. a cigar for witnesses a sunken glare, where we pardon our feelings; but a man dies or is unsung while it only occurs for a moment. such distaste for nothingness. such as captured by absurdity. our hands to something partway satisfying. moving our legs. watching our movement. just a bit too attuned to what transpires. to love but it’s not enough, or to try harder but life doesn’t move, as souls at some interior crossroad. too much to sit. too heavy to soar. or too disconnected to pardon our inner electricity.

as souls into technology, or buildings facing demolition, at tracks in mentalities. where sadness replaces joy. to look at an infant with pain. to know what stands before our children. so effaced in us, or so at needs in us, while satisfaction is grappling walls. a hand reaching as it slips our capture while derision is so unbearable. so, where is his gods, why intense suffering, where did existence escape to?               

Triumphant Disaster

 

we emote too much. I like raw passion. so cursed it meant to feel good. such trafficking or Love was convinced too aware of riches. it dies with me it laughs at me it feels terrific. so gutted so low the water boils. re-rocked, rescheduled, reexamined!     Medical is horrible bowels drip cages or arts barely catch it. so furious so frank as a feral animal. so dissected so deadly such a Hottentot.     men watching pain gripping or passivity seeming crazy.     ask for what is wanted, total submission, “Please me or go to hell.”     we can’t see it. it giggles like honesty. so flippant so savage.     as accustomed to good treatment. “Shall she become a woman? It bet not interrupt me.”     such feelings in guts such rough patches while Venus sips Brandy. the fret of the night, so uncured while most souls suffer leprosy.     a deceased man a purgatorial man or a woman so sick it becomes legal.    

the last to realize dementia the fields bleeding a soul filled, stuffed, overloaded with cotton. a spider bit me. I was fraught with venom. I drooled in such a panic it was rawness as in action. a cage in ceilings a mountain in Korea a woman in every story. so confused so conflicted as asphalt assumes another name. to flee into darkness while it was legalized just to imagine if color depicts decency. so evaluated seated in some cave a million men hunting footprints—such canines as sniffing gasoline while sneezing, barking, or running amuck. 

I go so low I rise so high while your heart doesn’t allow for release. so paraded so worthy if but to be such a slave. the phantom of its opera the music of those winds as a trombone to his memories. those passages those cabbages while one asks, “How did you manage?”             

Undergird By Irrelevance

 

some tear in region so steep so inclined to claim me. wolves in packs tearing conscienceness as destroying innocence so cursed so nervous or overreaching. by darker concrete by terrorist abstracts too much to sail in treasuries. some lost adored creature, so much rain, science floods by essence to reach as accused by silence. by battles to unglue by warriors to draw perfection where a daughter might have certain categories. so digested so moved where essence is different from alpha to omega. I would die in lies it was heaven in honesty while nothing is permitted to go wrong. a scientist at marrow a religious at meta-science while we need to believe in our winter. so distinct from each other so much calculation or a camel a desert & no way to parachute. it has been us it has been insanity while we hated our spotlight. in communication as people know you by those travesties you create. but pain to me, never remorse, while I spoke credibility into an issue. they never consider those facts or privileges while trying to prove some dejection. it would live in theory it would die scientific measure where it passed through due to poverty. so much in you so little in me while source is but iron & gut. I have needed some peace. I have counted sheep. I have tussled or torn wee hours. to stew formaldehyde to sew discomfort or to kneel close to an infant. by corduroy those nights. by anxiety come spring. while orange parades by atmosphere. so shorn by you so agitated by you where it seemed so normal according to you. by anxious capacity by dreary compatibility such a soft beginning; where nothing is reality or essence is chastised while one is set on something vague. to love a new feeling where most are obscure as treating a person like a minor escape. to mate in arms. to need an excuse, or to whisper softly, “This was a mistake.” I can’t condone what has taken place where reality is often cold. it has indifferences. it gives what was sought after. where it decides after the fact. or has it been present, decoding something tacit, where it receives only to discount itself. 

by miracle to outwit dice if but rules or standards to abide by such. surefire consensus or to silence upon essence where most elements are manipulated. a soul with child as never such love addicted to a violent habit. so much grief so little joy where remorse seems so heavy. I have lost us I was never a suitor I disappear with demons at my nape. such windy chimes such fireflies at night such an affliction by light. to live in shadows or to voice come hell while forced under levels of earth. cameras shielding facing. interviews going sour. or humans feeling constricted. I would love by advice or face a million stars so celebrated for something indecent. as fire touches underbrush as souls flee into havoc while chemicals are warfare. so much impending such muzzles on media while we celebrate some feat in its makings. by tender beauty by tender child where someone failed at our helm. to renege on innocence to convolute innocence where there is little space for innocence. so much to live for so little to die for while minutia is given credence.        

Separate Seas, Spatial Faces

 

so surrendering solace, as bees hover seeds into honey, while hurting. so impure at times if but measured by thoughts in such a land where behavior is manufactured. I could like a mission in which tales are genuine or a palm in churning presence. such upholstery such memories while a silent movie strikes at a tear. those years finding some person those wakes addressing some person or an hour between lovers. father would chastise this adventure with gems those rubies as true kisses. our reasoning our needs while they conflict. as a man in his mud or trying to climb some mountain while most are doomed to some conundrum. “But a good person. But a designed person. But so checkered his person.” it seems similar to me, our souls attached easily, where one must continue to give. so cognizant of such a wonderful ethicist while certain rules are bent to extract a horizon. I met a moralist. her soul seems louder. where it aches in me. those days we spent in such disarray wasting time loathing each other. such sweet parades such dear dynasties where passion is first cacophonous. to dislike you so much while at you so much, a year later on our first funeral. to regather self to die for lies where time passes into complaisance. I can’t outrun you. so I confront you. while un-esteemed or unwelcome or something allotted for certain complexions. so dear to someone so precious in his eyes, we wonder concerning something insignificant. I was dying. I crossed your aura. you were quick to keep me dying. it furies that way, as pure irony, while humanitarians are for certain groups. so much has bias, a tendentious turn, where goodwill is for a chosen few. to love like it’s easy or to resurrect like a new session while most Zoom Channels are on repeat. I will part with you our Red Sea, while hated by you.