the glass has ants they melt and
come back a bit symbolic of trials. serenity is grueling we’re introduced to
monsters I have leviathan inside. pupils screaming body liquid surrendering as
time embellishes. I talk to a gatekeeper as eight miles into a dream I woke up
at 4 a.m. blood was on walls, I hadn’t awakened, I woke up a third time. it may
hover preventing rest where we signal ‘transmitters. most become excited, or
unbeknownst marionettes, or untrained puppeteers. many pitfalls many portraits,
I have climbed into a catacomb. by ambition to approach I said something
spontaneous it struck a release. so much in ears, but patience prevails, at a
given moment, we want like earth is crumbling. mountains covered by dreams
poison tasting sweet, it feels good to be unaware. by raw gravity such helium in
a second, if but to achieve his motive. it wrinkles out it goes away a person
is right to feel angry; but what is it, what has died, too much to know so
little? weaponizing beginnings or strategizing mediums at passion like earth is
floating.
details or mercy or spatial pains.
I was sick in a sickroom in a
scream – as running if but to come back while many laughed with powdered faces.
they couldn’t believe it they couldn’t seize it it became hilarious in ways we
mourn. some whale shark, I was eating squid, as one made his celebration. I looked
into a group so many eyes alert where I noticed wiping of a tear. we caught
glimpses or deserts or deep inconsistencies. many caustic waters as love would
wrestle if but that initial fixation. to have surrendered to have carried a
helicopter to have died, returned, but to perish again. without a photo without
a graph, it’s like I was never here.
I was enlove I thought, but whom
would know love, in a factory we manufactured?
