paradise
wings so gentle or rough such abandonment — slung into submission, feelings
rushing, where a soul is fraught by gin. too much abasement too much music some
symphony turning rawer. one adoring his soup so crazed for spices while unaware
of her origin. but faces in chase such lies erased where it never seemed to
account. so indecent for her so lost in her while dying feels romantic with
her. by spatial forgiveness or intoxicated arguments so close to screaming at
Jesus! some friend-zone, or some animal-zone, while we have an issue. an iris
flower, a jamesia tear at a zinnia nightmare. to wrestle like living to laugh
and toss blankets where essence is terrible comforts. too much spirit not
enough for reason such sin as its omen. beds scented abed grinning while always
upon a spectrum. too irregular to fixate. too demented to ignore. while feeling
perfect in a pinch. our park day our barbeque to see several women formed in a group.
such laughing such secrets while men are catching gazes. so much carnival or
mind-caricatures with life screwing his quintessence. too justified to imagine
morale or morals or ethics—as such are normality or creation where deviation means
pathologies; so critical so true while a person feels boxed in — by guilt in
wells or orientation spelling out shame, if but to control by interior animal.
while Love is special or gorgeous or some discovered art — as an artifact or
agriculture upon an architect — those buildings our first edifice while it’s
been a longer road. some map such lizards as proud to have rushed out of our desert.
those screams those meanings while we finally found our negotiation.
