get
to it, my soul, bleeding my soul, so anxious about an addict woman. fingers to
soil blood to brain so attracted at a given moment. such slow motion, such
suspicion, while they promote paranoia. I’m always wrong the ghost has
strangled such rebirth in my gut. such fringes so alert if she asked a soul
might die. such a deep being such a dead living such rules to making peace. a
dearth of me a lost me ten feet deep in soil me. I knot up, I can’t die, I must
complete a cycle. such debt such mercy such a curse. some collar, as at her
brains, she just thumped my arc. a gate for us a memory for us, we never take
to speaking it. I guitar, Love, I chase, Love, I’m a damn fool Love. hard
stares a static face a man been through too much to smile; but I laugh I giggle
I look, hit a turn, fretted by gunfire. a broken nerve on a patient face, it
could go wrong! so selected so enlove like a man off to war. so masked looking
for light-row, at a madman pleading for forgiveness. so dead at it so alive
with it an album to his empire. the last picture the first messiah as a soul at
a woman for salvation. such purpose so dirty at a living in a gut with a
secret.
we can never say nothing, but I’m
pleased in slowed down, a god would know a good person—so bled out such misery
looking gracious, I put a slant on melancholy. a person feels good we laugh
like giants while a woman chastises over beers. to winnow my damn soul, so
afraid to feel, while fretted, nonetheless. listening to seas or a soul with my
old woman to forsake me for something plural. I dance better I float like bees I
feel reborn. the pain in my eyes the camouflage in my skin at five it shall be different.
a fool for passion or good dialogue it takes letting go to actually live. a
casket for me or an urn for me but it was good living.
