to fight might
feature it might fire so destined to live again. such orchids at orchards a
soft scent a sullen mansion. so frightened to let go or destroyed for holding
tightly, either/or, to face damnation. tender it seemed while a scream in me
such sweet unforgiveness. by bounty for revenge those roads so rugged our souls
puzzles too jagged; to joust in weather our sunbeam’n exhaustion too flushed to
speak.
dire needs too
many to count too unsteady to sing.
until we meet again,
until we taste harmony so
infused or so
stagnant if but to live one more scream.
so much searching
where others have found both
sail or stream
while we reminisce on ten years ago.
those tussling
aches those tipsy mistakes our eyes
glued to images;
such bedside events such raw
unfettered
destruction, to have fallen into pillows
to have dazed our
souls, such fruitless, titillating
memories; so jejune
so blue as a man feels limits.
such outflowing
such indwelling too confused to
speak, too
romanced to die, where death was its ink.
truth left us, seduction
was its intention, so left at
paint; pantheon
lovers or focused rain, sour fen bliss.
slow softness or
texture tension
too
awakened too
AWOL.
as loving or
adoring such deadening sensation;
by call
so extreme, if but
musicality. our ear-meter our tone so
lethal too concerned
such rubescent chills.
