I fantasize at
length many barb-wires many deaths. it remains groundless as a thought while
tangibility seems irrelevant. to tackle body or drenched essence in a place we
must channel. unbridled angst or pure dysfunction, in a lighter sense. I was
angry with you. it was gnat anger—but I ran with impulsivity. sawdust came
between us, levity has become us, I can’t depend on you. many millwheels many
solicitudes many unlucky charms; to tarry where you stay, if to give a
portrait, much terror is unsuspected attractions. but eyes are florid made bold
but loins are deliberate until otherwise, or we remain untenable – as immortalized
anxieties a soul listening to fear with agony to act in accordance – those timid
smiles those larger ears or trenchant alienation – upon girth and swim, upon
skies and clouds, with hellish beauty driving us intimately. I, as many
persons, desire chastity – something unknowing to itself, something ruled by
cadence, something alert to its divinity. I was in need of a collar, as to
escape innate-ghetto, if but to adorn in your sophistication. upon a circuit, aligned
in a scream, the first scent into my psyche.
a soul needs a sensei or a sage or desperation to become with onyx. by
cradle father prayed. by instinct father reneged. or, where it hurts, by
naturality, mother failed. the halls
have trees, the vestibule has shrubberies, ants and bugs have encased the pillows.
(Rebuke!)
upon the sofabed I
see a book, a dream someone has written. I taste my breath. I sip a little
debate. I have come that I may impart something. the conviction of each soul.
by euphoria to seem connected. with rites indicative of alike souls. an
incentive to be you, where you unlike me, by mere something it buzzes entirely.
I read a magazine.
I saw something foreign to me. while it’s alive in me.
those sawmills
operated in sheer dissatisfaction – if to reminisce or to have seen it, where
color is ruling principle.
but I fantasize at
length, I drift into you, if it churns a thought has been delivered. our
connectivity our secrets in understanding, while, although true, I must refute:
an in crowd is an elitist crowd while something true may never win
authenticity.
