we narrated
pictures we bled realities we wore vintage cloths. I would see you, like a
runt, where I worshipped ideals. puffy lips, powdery eyes, skin decorated by
halos. like gila monsters, remaining mystery, pure antique beauty. if reptiles
it becomes habit. if human it becomes attachment. if vampires it becomes
suffering into eternity. by maelstrom force, removed from intestines, I come to
you to build with you. most
starve for affection. they never give in return. they just beg for more. a chameleon is a whirlpool. most
maintain sameness of behaviors. we adore what has evolved as pictureless. pains in gusts or winds filled by
venom or a second, I forgot your status.
I would shove you
or adore penalty as fire stormed or goblets exploded. nostrils & scents, as
to sense distress where bodies lie to interpretation. cherry-orange clouds or
grape pudding if but to ignore what is seen. something odd in us, as envy in
us, like pure jealousy in us. to hate what is needed, to engage with venom, insomuch
as a desperation to disrupt. is Life a wasteland? do we cherish poisonous
plants? have I overlooked illness? some will never return. it will get worse.
but we enforce endless empathy.
I will love by its reality or by
its essence with want of what is impossible to receive. a private blue mood. a
deep inadequacy. most florid damages. our in-excellent masks, at tears to be
hidden, where most aren’t listening. a cable to a spirit, a vacuum to a curse,
in many pains to remain distant. more bothered by expectation, more ruined by
actuality, if but to know why some bounce back … maybe a last question: is it
surrender, or fighting to claim balance?
