the moods as swinging where he needed balance, how have we changed each other? opaque clarity as so certain where realness is so aloof; the garden as it sings those jamesias as they giggle or a place for one begonia. too connected to others or so much a wild fern as tumbleweed races in memories; by desolate forest or galloping mare while hold-shafts devastate the isolated freedom. so much texture but it seems so low as to wonder about all those walls; so off-key such diamond sanctity where a soul might panic at thoughts.
it was listening
to us it was painting us it stuck with us.
such a destroyed
innocence while a man knows, he knows a woman. the timbre of dice such flipping
flippancy where vestibules flood by oceans. (to sit so sullenly to feel part
satiated as sudden into sea-washing tears. too much to sustain too much in its
wake so wild a feeling where it goes too deeply; but what was it, or how it
becomes more, when a soul is ushered into action?)
upon a locket,
looking at granny, so certain a person might hurt existence; by fury of its
undergrowth or ruins of its underbrush where a soul is defrauded of innocence.
to take a person there, to that dear dogma space, as to leave us dangling from
waterweeds. so much to couch our woes or to forget our blimps when reality
keeps chasing its chipmunk.
by muse of a
character where it hurts to rest such pillows such sheets where soft scent
lingers.
by heart-fount by
guitar strings so into escaping what tugs or pushes like winds.
a pile of
firebrand a firestone eagle or so involved a man might try harder. —for passion
awakens sure into placation while fighting somewhere beneath his soil: as stoic
creatures, reneging on stoicism, to get something no one might give; to need
her body her spirit her excellence; as to see motion, such split affection, as
getting the best of his arms; such torn beliefs or rabid smiles while to sense
private anxieties. a future to its execution, a past to its jury, or an
analyzed present-tense.
