we
absorb convenience where a man is on edge, he has never died this way before.
we try to cover up those sullen leaves those freesia flowers. becoming
antisocial or depending on wrongdoing insomuch as slightly enjoying coitus. by
lust we ignited so early so right we seem like soulmates. it must be kismet as
opposed to habit so infused by rubies. such nakedness of pains such tears in
chests while I just need to hear, “It will be alright.” years of heaviness such
heaving into pillows where I never can be alone.
self-work
or self-silhouette so misunderstood, like misery making passion or sorrow
playing motions, or roughness becoming salutation.
it
was unreal to hear it, as one terrified, such illogical convictions. so selfish
so mis-completed, or travesty left everywhere we travel. to need belief, to yearn
for a home, but compelled to ruin anything tender.
it
seems contentious, many can’t listen, if only each knew their worth. over 30
years of same behaviors. to desire a complete feeling. but habits are mindcaves,
preventing insouciance, thus, one acts unbeknownst to their intentions.
nothing
is compelling as loving one unworthy of such allegiance.
but what deserves love, as some
perfect person, absorbed by imperfection. as lonely hearts as aching absence
such beauty in something hiding from itself. to adore assessments to ensure
presence or to ignore intelligence. how much must I surrender—in this land of
nomads—to pretend we’re at kismet?
it’s fair to suggest some are
wonderful. because I need to believe. if not, we have another pandemic at our
lawns.
so much to hurt you, while running
to you, for I must be rebuilt. so close to you, so much I forgive myself, so
much I try harder to trust you.
I was knit in transparency as close
to my region where behavior seemed noticeable. to ask is a problem. to presume
is an issue. while pain would have us that way. but I loved what I couldn’t
absorb where it was needed to mind-knit or unknot as souls pardoned but
repeating what hurts.
we operate by orientation, insomuch
as, our circle trains us. we, too, have tendencies, pushed by lusts, where our
needs are rapacious. as greedy persons, or unidyllic souls, where a few are
most careful. they enliven a room, they ballet with grace, their bodies are
kenisic. born with power presumed in lessons where it takes little to trigger
their intuition. they are gorgeous lights forever running into gold where most
aren’t subsumed in negative fires. they rationalize, they rethink solutions,
they ride positive flame. such a person aside an allegory as politeness is not
an issue. they protect inheritance, they read Wisdom Books, they love until it
whispers. such keen souls so adored so trustworthy. at moments, quite feisty,
quite demanding; when insecurity hits, it’s spoken to, not merely camouflaged.
such prowess in magic such life-song
in mystics, or such elation in a good person. they redeem life, they reignite
passion, they give like it’s natural.
