signs,
silly lessons, so much time to locate something losing lockage.
a
soul eats grapes a basin is a symbol, waxing incomprehensibly.
to
undress history, a field soul, so sanctified it becomes unhealthy.
I
can’t confess it. closeness should go further. there’s a place it can’t reach.
saying every piece any interior those shadows outflanked.
so
ready as it must happen where it has volition—valleys by voltage by destruction
in a dungeon rereading invisibility.
while
a man sees he might try more where a woman seems she was waiting.
a
film of fire a solid made watery so many waterfalls so many wrestling; friends
for years, casualties for minutes, I watched you marry your existence. too
fixed in flames so much a church in its deliverance.
to
say more to trails to trains to tracks, as floating in fury or framed in
disclosure, wilderness to itself, or carried in a bottle, so soft, so supple,
such a willow.
I
know it’s un-lodged, I have responded, so it’s working; too many games, too
many avenues, too much history; coming into skies at drums thrumming
excellence. behaving accordingly, according to an accordion, shredded by vengeance
or evilness, a man has no right to say certain things. pure disenchant. while
it screams. where one becomes worse in his existence.
what
for those dearer deserts? to insist on instability. as to convict, condemn, and
curse instability.
sour
disappointment, raw dislike, where persons are challenged: in ink, on paper, in
soul.
it
was another in anxiety. she drifted further. I wonder how people come together.
those seconds in moments where two get undress.
is
it serious? should it be? or is it laughter, high fives, something favoring
science?
what
becomes of marriage—frivolity, sacredness, either/or, or comprised of both?
