south
of the ghosts those Indian empires a teepee in our city. white smoke, blue
flicker, round, intuitive eyes. eating black dust a tug or two unravels many
footmen uncured. cotton by feathers design by color or pebbles by glass.
swallowed
by dignity upon gravel made tension sores or beats it never felt so intense –
as in goodness to resist at pain made glory.
I’ve
been in fantasy along a jagged road as stopping to converse with lizards; quite
aloof, I sit on hopes, I’m close to Vegas. so sullen right here so much
reaching right here while despair is rebuked right here.
surrendering
to mercy. such sky-bumps or sky-maps. while absorbing tainted purity.
I need
you holy as something in me while I ignore your serenity. we share ambiguities
we trance in concert we love what’s hard to cherish.
a
redesigned kitchen, a refurbished settee, or days filled with frustration. by
subzero beauty, a cold evening, our sun blazing.
or
watching
a celebrity as sharing her life, to rethink my interests.
a
woman might suggest, while never for airs, but as he adores me. so much rich
science where it seems steady while we invest in excitements. by rash niceness
or keen uneasiness – the ways we control our lovers.
he
slept with her. he got a glimpse of therapy. he was ill-equipped, utensils are
self-seated!
I was
at years rebuilding. it becomes familiar. a person feels power, a person does by
will!
a
home travels, it wends into heights, it’s nice to smell your sweat.
such
torturing scenario. pure functional dysfunction. or to watch another drag your
woman through mud. offshoots. depression. while a good person rebuilds before
leaving.
the
soul has a radio. I like your channel. it swooshes at times.
by
jasmine tension, a lovely scent, or an existential petal. our complete
assessment as assumed by sentiments where we never see our mirrors.
so
embarrassed of freedom, so enslaved by freedom, while begging for freedom.
