dear
Love, the pain is cultural, not hopeless, a bit unclean. those eyes with
gestures, so strong but pained, such wrath in our antennas. such sensitive
souls so beat internally while calm in our homes. I lost mother I lost daughter
I lost me. I found me I located mother I have love in a daughter. but life is uncoordinated
something is askew while genetics are overloaded—the wealth of the wound the
lesion in groans so hectic so numb. my own tears as such strength to realize it
felt cathartic. I sit in essence such refined stillness people gravitate in
direction.
we
seem disconnected, while vigilant souls, upon a ribbon into voltage. so
prepared so sad while we must all relocate—the rain of the octopus the teeth of
the shark or the trunk of the forest.
so
baptized so drenched in water while we debate holiness.
a
feature of the brain or cursed while pleasant so shrill it turns by disbelief. or
cultural so alive while silent into more beliefs. well together while wild
together so polite to a designated soul.
I
shift or chase or abandon my childhood tenets; so, there’s mother, a gorgeous
creature, aside a muscular suitor. or there was father, as visiting for love,
as walking away softly.
I
contend for mercy I sin in trepidation I realize something in its silence.
I
just buried ashes I just smoked a cigarette I just smothered emotion.
so
much to relent so trailed in fury so disgusted by survival. such treatment such
denial or partway into disbelief—those iris flowers these jamesia gates while
most fiddle elephant weeds—by tumble of the giant by engaging leviathan or
reservoirs into chambers.
I
tipped the fish bowl. I laughed and scooped the fish. I ran, got water, and wondered
as they couldn’t make it—for the water was a different temperature, it didn’t
fit, it didn’t bring comfort. such is life, chasing winds, or strangling fire;
if to find days, at a soothing temperature, if to locate mother in adolescence.
but Love is mythic or sad or disappointed!
