mourning
our status or rejoicing our few leaders, while feeling universal upheaval.
those brown antennas those curly bangs while remaining cultural is a set of
confusions. we consume one another as someone does submit or we become socially
ambidextrous. there is ever a notation, a sticker on one’s soul, such pain to
inhale your demeaner. so unforgiving while preaching forgiveness while we
admire your façade. some imperfect person as typing his eulogy to find some
deep illusion. as problematic, a person taking issue, far too many wars; they
reverberate, people ask questions, one is certain to discount a true claim.
some internal epithet such fever to return while most are treated unfairly; pure
dignity or purer class where some are too sophisticated. we adore our heroines
our superwomen as they soar and dive into crevices unto stars; those lonely, dissonant,
desolate, immortal stars. such clash in our struggle, such demarcations, while
we must act in accordance to another’s knowledge base. to love you isn’t enough.
to hold you seems critical. but to die for you is soon forgotten. but a life
surviving or an actor surging so terrible immersed in more swamps—as dear to
effacement or legendary as a creature while hell in paid to those interior monsters.
a soul remembered her name. her politics were irrelevant. she died similarly to
other underrepresented women. some wrath or creed as souls float into violence
to have such rage form new conscienceness. by a simple feather we get a group
of wings where something unusual is set to occur.
I can’t
see your eyes such swelling pressure to cuddle an old blanky. or those African
Americans passing into our American history. nor raw anger as so apropos such
soil filled with a daughter’s bones. those leaves blowing across one’s lawn to remember
a child chasing, laughing, tripping, and wailing. too much to feel too much to
ignore emotion, for in all honesty, they don’t merely detach those particles.
but fens to stars, love to parents, and responsibility for writers.
