if
ever I loved a damsel, let sweet breath testify, or fail its endeavor. certain
dialogue or uncertain soul made guilty for asserting self. such dying
indifference, I must care more, for uneasiness stresses the calming spirit. so
dry in its pool. so livid in its quietude. such vacillation in its linear
voice. it was anxiety to love you,
such syrupy torture, where emotion is sticky. we might die at evening or such
beauty at sunrise while so fearful of being alone. something amazes me, our hesitance to fly,
such joy reflected in anguish. to have lived in mind, or suffocating
insufferably, alongside such incomplete happiness. if ageless we seem immortal. if dying we
feel temporal. as nerves churn into distance. I was at needs to disbelieve science, or
running feet to skies, while life seemed different for you. some incomplete love something damaging
but filled by necessity.
winds speak of hurting at dams
fretted by emotion while snug in tears laughing suddenly. but a soul is so much
more, the furnace might exhale, or the ceiling might float away. if a person
supplies and never withdraws each might manage something pantomime. as seeds
germinate or attitudes ferment our sullen joy is vibrating.
what type of flower? a passive zinnia.
or a booming begonia.
what hurts more – the attraction,
the inclemency, or the old friendship?
I listen until it cried. I played naïve
until it was laughter. such un-comfortability in knowingness. but off into ether as acclaimed in helium
while something creates life out of deaths. a socket in souls a fusion in
screams as endurance might bless the desperate. a humbling smile or an arrogant
aura where one is frantic but fearless.
cages or tombs or boxes; such are
dreamt as omens; while we knit feathers.
if ever I loved a damsel, I seem
unsure, but failure to attach like dying without you. to need consumption, but
too weak for consumption, while angered at not feeling consumption. or to plan
in direction, as this is its limitation, while humans are complexity.
I see in textures, some semblance of
infinity, while uncertain of the core identity. so close to pathological or so
normal at manipulation while we might call this survival.
a soul carries a walrus or a mind inhabits a
cobra at some fairy tale island – where things are correct while appearance is
deception but a skeptic might say, this is our understanding.
I was more deeper thoughts,
generated by intensity, at some castle made contemplative – those thorns grow
wildly, they ignite from beauty, we might grip a stem until we snatch away.
such mizzling mist. such cartoon angst. while one might disown himself.
made life flesh as insides are more
complicated or at times feeling like a sepulcher. thunder at night, seated in
solace, upon a thought to say, “I love you.” so temperamental. so iffy. so
close we can’t tolerate the vacuum. as soaring to others, feeling depleted,
while discovering using is akin to surviving. it hasn’t substance. it oozes out
of its sphere. one is grasping at vapor.
such curious eyes, such devastating
beauty, while soft communication is always intimate.
upon a slingshot into atmosphere I catch
us falling.
such silky robes or gowns fraught by
infinity at an encounter proving it must deteriorate. as lightning rains or trees
sway, we sit at bark. our private savannah our beating thoughts so arrested by
what might have existed. I retreat or concentrate on activity while fire
splices uncertainty. the hopes a mind generates the beginnings of an era or
subtle aches demanding resurgence. but a man with flaws or a woman with
irritation at perils to exist. to have lived where it was gorgeous or to have
choked where it became nuisance.
I flit across essence or fly in
meditation such a recognition of our concentration. as sitting close to breath,
or touching fabric, or petting some island I must egress.
