“You
must address that. You have to face it. If not, it will remain an issue.” there’s a lake filled with dimness so
dusky too gloomy while behaved. we
say answers but we don’t agree while we lavish some person’s perversions. “You
must address that. You have to define for yourself. Something in you works
against you.” the father was absent
or the mother was disconcerted or the grandmother was passive. may gods be at your side. may earth open
to you. but you know she speaks clearly.
I met a woman. I have no idea—of tales or beauty or riches; it was
emotional or undercurrents while we loathed airs. “Was she an addict/a sophisticated
creature/was she dignified anguish?”
I saw seas or distinctions or years too soon deployed—the fire of its
blueness the flame of its sky the animal in its cage or dreams unfurled like
Agnus. I heard waves such an Arabic/European blend, as birds watched or horses galloped
such sweet stark madness. “You haven’t
answered my question. Something is hesitant. Are you protecting some image—one you
need or falsity you desire or pain you refuse to face?” I don’t need harassment. I’m tired of
answers. I saw her, where eventually, I wanted her. “But why?" Because I was sick. “What type of sickness?" the type that’s inappropriate. “Has this happened before?” No!
“What was it about her?” she
was an asshole/a character/filled by self-consciousness—it got into me!
by scream or storm or winter or
weather—to chance skies to dream about miracles or to adore while guilty of
neglect. “How do you deal with fire,
or absentness, as some soul against his wishes?” I sing to self an ancient madness where I become
trancelike; the courage of the deer those noisy hoofprints or such lights
guiding my steps. “Would you if
possible?” I don’t feel that. “What have you felt?” I have dark currents or anger, for it was
never an issue of my safety. I ache inside to prove credibility for one where
it never concerned life. “We mustn’t crescent
darkness, we must feel worthy, we must address those recesses?”
