she
smiles. I take to kindness. I spin in a cauldron. the lights blare or fracture
or whelm. such beauty in dying, so confusing, unless we know for reasons. I was
pious for years, after being dirty for years, I compared the two, they bring
different pangs. airborne hellos or
cellos on silence while maestro in dancing concerto. a man with issues or
truths so alienated from understanding. either existential or ecclesial or
prone to what fits. those special lyrics those chandeliers in oceans or an
attraction which becomes elastic. I was at a faucet, it kept pouring, I was
filled with oils. such flavescent flowers or jamesia wishes while hurting seems
universality. too pure for most, or
too dirty in existence, where one opts fore aloneness. I would bathe her,
touching every crevice, she would become incredible. a man in his prime, death
is channeling, she would soothe anxieties. but fever as sudden or days as livid
while we desire total consumption. a comet fell or pain was ecstatic so sourced
in invisibility.
I would adore in shadow those
sentences as spoken while tides pushed into horizons. the love of perfection
until it might die where we long for old behavior. sure humility in facts, as
to lose inhalers, while another absorbs old passions.
I would adore her art or read her
novellas where worlds seemed to insulate.
unbox sentience a thump or hurricane
such patience to decode – a feeling in chains as pure into contracts while
lines blur into seas. so frantic a missed call so delicate raw essence while
others were sincere in ruining our chances. such a stoic fount or pure cynics
as accused of floundering through pains. by deep incense aside a Pasadena Mall
a short walk into scarecrows.
so dedicated to playing mandolins so
measured against reality while maneuvering to maintain. a soul loving life, as
conditioned by miseries, while we create reasons to suffer. as close in deaths,
but gorgeous emotions, where slight pain is worthy of its rewards.
