into his angst such soil-zest
as fleeing if but to unwind. such a name it means so little, it’s fair by far
it’s bleeding a scar those bars those roads so disgusted while odors are foul
such whittling of cypress. into a jungle so many ruthless felines as would die
by punctured guts.
I must reevaluate as so gross a portrait—disease, a
robbed future, be its goodness those infidelities.
a man is never credited. where he did lose. but most
are disinterested.
(such winning as to have wit or discernment but its
cost is its penalty; as would live intending to break even, but its ante is an
altered existence: people look differently, their motives are hidden, their
quirks/insecurities serve as first facial gifts.)
oxygen is low its space
is claustrophobic we hear cacophonous drums—two sets as amelodic or ameliorated
at churns such soft soul devastation. noises come to me, I can hear you, while
too
much humans need
reception.
a bit yellow on a matter
while I’ll watch where reality is something unsteady. one might create
actuality or stumble into a mirror where unsaid mirror might suffer its damages.
I could speak to love, for it lingers
in its empire so near to understanding malice. to have made you to have excluded you
while so decent they’ll never ensoul you.
as seasoned sufferers
as insurmountable miseries or so patient with hoofs or antlers or bleeding
skies. to drip into a puddle to adore while falling to reach as a palm pulls
into hells. but you bring joy you
give silence where words are unnecessary.
every breath hasn’t
been you, while ever desire hasn’t been me, nor has every decency been us
collectively; by discontent by wilderness while it becomes survival by scandal;
to never have your eyes to never feel like destiny where everything you have
loved has failed. so much forward motion or metaphysics if but to breathe.
I see so much pain,
while they never supplied a foundation, something sturdy, endurable, or
fantastic; nay, but incurable division, or unlikely affirmation.
