I was early at
time south of my sanity north of my beliefs. by core seemed undeveloped. I would
unsee too much. rain would fall. shoes were muddy. I had to go outside.
I heard her say, “Epiphany.”
I’ll leave that
for discernment.
sunshining rain.
moist, wet roofs. skies filled with lightning.
climbing was a
hobby. we soon climb memories. I have many inside me.
finding you is impossible.
at comforting aches. I didn’t want to become iron. so sealed, dependent, wherewith,
sanity is in jeopardy. souls are
aggressive about comforts. cultures are against a war. walls are rising. a soul
is looking. he is unable to mitigate. currents are rushing. souls are drowning.
the city is flooded. spirits
desire intimacy—is it elitist—is it plural? —for you it’s existence, bottles of
wine, a cellar kept cool; for another, he is incomplete, disappointed, his root
is unknit. never a sign of concrete, relations were abstract, insensitive,
selfish. many are unyoked,
perceiving best as possible, years by angry souls.
looking for a
homerun striking a softball impressed by how far it goes.
at some club, down
Sunset, a drink is not entrance. it’s manipulation. it’s never remembered. I meant one, she signed for two. a bartender watches, learns, has a
good time—most in anguish, functional, overborne. whom would we adore? whom would adore
us? better. does courtship have definition, restriction, does it say—exclusivity?
if so, when are we aware?
