so saddened by literature, a woman I can’t
master, a journey broken as it is whole. those tarsier tentacles, those
backbone pikers, or days writing at top speed. to exist in society, as emotion
is damned, but emotion is all we give. seven steps forward, to turn suddenly,
to aim, no remorse, a body drops! or Love is smarter, if to return those books,
in an instant to recite by memory. such lizards such a walk downstream where
most souls are pinpointed. I baked salmon, she desired whiting, I purchased red
snapper. we argued metaphors. we debated similes. I remained lost. by five
dollars per game I sacrificed dignity. by last to win but first to burn where
loving her becomes damnation. to trade queens. to rage inwardly. where most are
without a passport.
we portrayal chess, as marks into targets,
by arrows into fortune. we protect our queen, if she’s to perish, we topple our
king. such sequence, or victory by intuition, to know fire in three moves. such
improvising such moves according to offense or fever all through the night. to
call by name so maimed inside assisted in my own burning. a cigarette a book or
affronted by etiquette. a soul is in a snare, he needs more, where the adder
has giving less; a want to have vixen a minx in portrait while fire needs to
spread. she wants curls or pearls or static uneasiness—as loosened or bothered
or sacrificed—where bodies are cavalier or books are necessary while
salaciousness is casual. so capsized so much back or forward one move shy of
winning. we never know a woman some target in sights while analyzing some compartment.
as blindfolded players so astute but maddened so allergic to something denying
it’s conquered. pure woman pure moodiness but we know it isn’t reality. the
fungi of chess those squares to realize forever we live in or out of check. while
loving is magic his mind sings it remembers some oasis it can’t recant. remora
thoughts admittedly engineering quite close to the University. too eccentric by
greater writes where expression is morphine. to play like a shark to eat like a
tiger—the pride & sorrow of imagination.
