a
black box a black apple it feels different. some coincidence or portent winds
as an aggravated blade. those coattails those diamonds this life! un-weathered
feelings un-weathered pain, while resilience is weathered. a box of silverware,
a cultic eye, but nothing is unordinary. a keyboard moving a lake in a ceiling
a pool in a basement. I’ve said nothing, as saying too much, while most are
studying clarity. I touched a staircase I felt a spark, it was delicate rain.
such black consciousness such black music such black mulattoes. look closer, a
woman as a lamplight, a feeling like watts, a body like voltage. too complicated
such black rain such white aphorisms while dreams are foul with omens. lighthouse
eyes or darknet lips our cities are filled with noises. asking our gatekeeper,
what in hell aches, while there’s black thirst in Washington? such a design
where it looks true but it’s surreal or burning while ice sits in stillness. by
tactful silence by untactful loudness but no one is listening to silence — not as
a go-to but more as accidental, where we usually shake it immediately. by
rhetorical function by black serenity at tortures seeming relatable; such
performance of arts, such a fable in a fable, while we need another allegory.
softer those cries harder those realities while I failed in calling you mine!
economic
literature or economic screams while most remain in silence, killed by silence,
addicted to silence. black mistresses, white glory, while a man hates what he
can’t fathom. sure to catch conscienceness, such black conscienceness, while
many are trampling conscienceness. I could in a scream I could in an ache while
loving by the grave is too much — too painful too many errors, while one would
say, “You lack character!” a harsh rush a fire in confines a sweaty eight-month- old baby. a batch of pears, a road to Santiago, or a doll come to life!
