such
nerve in me the lioness is angry while globes spin. the devil in me those cages
in me while I pass out shame. like a bicycle ride swooping through Santa Monica
headed to a beach path. so much he was born, so deteriorated, plus, a collar. to
carry iron to animate on call, while feeling like sewers. I was a tourist running
through cities a thief with long hair—so cursed, thus, uncured while whispers
drove a mad participant. but what was
it, where innocence is protected, while most are anti-metaphysics? but a
package deal atop a tabletop so deviated it felt like Reformation. to bother
Love to still adore Love but Love is discredited. I vanish at like 11p.m.,
swerving doing ninety, I see blueberries.
so much that saga,
so scheduled to persevere, as to come across her. we corner self, such red
thoughts, where one is held in sky esteem. the same wilderness those four kids
while never a good relationship. to play father, to argue daily, so sexual it
feels like addiction. but relative love for relative souls, it might seem
perfect by emotions. but ghost to winds like candy to teeth such a sweet tooth.
boiling water a
plush kitchen so clean it feels like heaven. a soul man a traffic lamp, eating
vegetables and beef.
such those authors
those pseudonyms or a woman with a man’s name. a bag of sugar, as placed in
trials where its 50% havoc.
