when nights blend
those fairs in souls while carnivals are advertised. to empath a legacy or to
ignore an insult where minds are taking courage. to seem irritated, where a man
inquires, while a woman says, nothing is wrong. I scratch flesh as bent towards
shores by war we’ve accomplished so little. by rough countenance to become
inflated where it meant much to us; if but discomfort, “I have done my part,”
while a person is of importance. such simple discourse or edges un-enveloping
cliffs while knells are resounding in spirit. we have sensors they compute data
where we know for inconsistence; a man finds her, he adores her, it becomes his
responsibility to address her.
but dawns are
engines or pains are gloating where one feels existence. a drug might be
ingested a person might soar, while actuality is vague. its fury of its addict
its welts its wielding its alphabet. to accuse a woman while the gaze is set
where deep down, she agrees with indifference. by beauty of its child by raging
oceans or sheer activity. to agree but feel uncertain where it might side with
something losing; its guarantee its flippancy or so at curses it felt good to
lose. if but more dissatisfaction or more dysfunction as a woman built for
unhappiness; to find a moment as to collapse in tears so enlove while unknowing
love.
by whet passion or
whetstones so many flesh wounds; as yelling to scream or cantankerous or such a
good person—where thieves have raided, they have plundered they have
taken spoils.
its toil to make
goodness, as dealing with a perceived cad, or some indelicate asshole. if but
understanding, if but superwoman, as if one would know pain—if by osmosis or
controlled by a gesture where one might feel akin to winning.
