one
gift is discernment. another is perception. and another is faith—as a blessing
or a borderline furnished by experience. it sounds comical while we ask for
humans such nectar to feel good. so lost as warriors so vain as monsters while
a good man is a dying man; sweet resurrection something unidentifiable such
will or fire while doing above average. promised music or mechanical knitting
where seams are noisy so loud. if rapture if deathless we’ve run with little to
give back. if complete in most quarters we’ve found life unnecessary troubles.
a journal sits on a desk an entry is rehashed, it felt so real. a secret we
speak, no one listens, everyone calls our kind differently. so torn left behind
such will to reappear; those crevices a wife can’t see—or those rights seeming
undefended—while inertia is at our limbs. to smile at Love to give survival to
hug a child; so lost rummaging tumbleweed eating honeydew. too ripe to reap
such railways inside waiting for someone permanent. but a dreary reality while
seated closely to wonder if she ever met me; some manic person some interior
disconnection where it looks whole while it attends to maxims. by nightsnake by
nightingale or nightsong havens; an aglet on a shoelace—this is life for many
mystics: confined or charged while getting so much to cry for; certainty in
abstracts faith in humans to find needing God is to need family. such ruthless
cries such nocturnal beliefs while one systematically tears hell from a man’s
dance. cosmic oceans such spatial seas while listening has hurt the untruthful
arc. untold stories retold pains waiting for something overwhelming; as staying
in posture as reliable until deaths where a sight brightens the weary essence.
such bedded disbelief such magnet harms so close it feels like chasm. nothing
fills it. it just germinates. why in hell it came!
