I’ve changed so
much as hungering for ownership to accepting human pains. we fear it as so
tragic while needing desperation – at lights inside, sitting at red, or
thrashing through yellow. roadside distractions or a feeling too deep to remain
unspoken – so alert or much an offense where it comes accidentally – our television
channels our stage life where many are living Shakespeare. I was restrained
like locks on chains it was hectic impatience. they passed assessment, it’s
quite natural, but I kept with resistance. some fail to realize this, as dear
to our souls, we select which people we care to acknowledge. if one is beneath
the spark or seeming too judgmental, we become defensive enough to discount
them. but enough of that, more to an Amazon, more to anaconda ropes, tugged to
freedom across quicksand – as never to erase, nor disenchant, while paths seem
similar. I never spoke offensively, I wrote a dear message, it seems our
closets become our holiness. a record on repeat, a woman I admire as years have
struck a chord. darker days or passion ways where she might watch on channel human.
I lost that round. I passed that round. I retreated into that round.
if to ask a question if to feel the
best in Angelica while so close to begging for clarity. so much effusion many
bleeding halos at a party in this bottle. by a miracle in her face by pride in
her lineage so smart too gifted where something appeals concerning ghettoes;
rolling faster a cut to a giant a fret to his bones; to outlive me to sense me,
the only one to give oppression a shake – gripping handlebars or steady on a pedal
while swooshing and swooping at interior reclusiveness – the guard on alert the
prisoner set free while freedom costs new brains.
Love was acting a way like she
struggled that way where we work to deceive spirits. so close to broken fences
as screaming to mend fences or hectic into a gated curse. how many are in on
it, to know cultic truths, much a family of radicals – to enter to retype genetic
spirits while followed into a fire.
