by swamps trekking marsh so indelible—as a heart beats as drums resurrect to go in so deeply—those tribes those roots as assumed in penalty; the doctor the leopard the Ghost—as a creature so carved while walking out of wood. so much in fragments while gluing pieces or Trixie’s voice—too low to ignore such raw liquor if trying to exist there; by cages on lungs by misery in wings so soft for one hating his guts.
while to leave a man so close to forever where debt becomes underpaid. to see ‘things’ wrongly, where fidelity is artificial while indispensability is celebrated, whence this trickle of sodium? so charged or pure electricity where it stops—the sudden invisibility the purpose of its essence while it would have loved such rawness.
too much to ignore, something quite slow while necessarily the man is a push over. as set to play cello or pushing keys while knowing one is being done over. a mile into soot while he desired monogamy in such a race to feel holy. such fires into something that couldn’t die while a roughneck creature might overrun terrors. too minced to breathe or sitting in pits while waiting when it arrives. to ignore so much as seated at dinner to feel it rising with such language.
our rooted aches or treasured existence if but to adore like worshiping.
