oh
certain denial, children are fading, days are effaced.
rectified
chase or demon angelica at boulders those
would
shimmer. so special to its map such longer roads
if
sentenced, we must die again. tragic essence into
travesty
beauty, while a man has lost his name. it fires
insides
in tastes acidic such bubbling interior. a soul
would
dread, such new beginnings, to have lost greater
fears.
too reliant to be settled. too giving to need gifts.
or
too much dependent on turbidity; by mud in our sores
or
radiance in our miseries—such gentle unforgiveness.
to
assume in minds those fragile gestures where a soul
is
losing itself. topaz oceans or terrors as nightmares
with
pain as resident while forced by silence, oh so pensive.
if
to unwrap if to debate life seeing such dear imbalance.
