a bit mellow
sidetracked at visions so dead at bones so alive in friction a man cut inside.
longwinded or silent while fire strikes caves; maybe blue lights, or fuchsia
pains so dear the way you smile. too much ink by deeper grays I was waxing a
fence. you see a threat it runs in color we embrace those adoring us. seashores
like seahorses so bled of boundaries. too close to ignore too unclassified to
mingle or too unattracted to feel more than discomfort.
a risky business a
notorious kingdom while salted and salacious.
those ways they
probe those voices kept minimal or spirit as sullen. a pound of bacon a house
of elders, mother sipping coffee. a good day a better week a pained element. a
nice month a bad year while pains are intermittent.
but a ghost in a
window while buffed away. a veil in life, not much to presume, where to admire
is to form cravings. a broken problem a beating drum a strummed violin – at deliberate
angst, as it was enveloped, a crime to call a vase aesthetic. at art at fate a
hate inside; too much for some too little for others, we search for spatial
whelm-hood.
too much
permission we never say it but when correct, it seems to get better.
fed a seabird
looked at sea-skies at a turnpike smoking a cigar. revving inside gawking at
dusty winds, listening to what’s found adorable. a mind different, a slant
envied, so great to feel received. at a tabby as at a husky fingers beneath
fur. owning inadequacies so livid over injustice while seeing all things as
mandated.
defrosted or
thawing an opus so cured so awakened at terrible frustration. pure
contradiction while driven like warriors looking at a gifted remedy.
measured by
unhappiness or cultured by infractions while I wonder when we dismiss color. if
fact, a problem, an unsteady suggestion, where human action seems oblivious at
points. so much running as whereto at some mountain inside.
a bit infused a
bit into those feelings while smart enough to ask for assistance.
