it ain’t easy—riding
into sunsets—exposed so early, the valley of my crimes, the sighs in spirit,
blasted, rocky, icky, laughing in sewers. looking in glass, an hour to performance,
everything riding on one sentence. can’t shake it, can’t let go, many
detectives in our souls. to adore to shift to love.
with music, soft
into a trance, I see you, I have affinity for you, I’m inking undanced by you.
mostly a misfire,
mostly surefire, mostly a metaphor placed in sin—the vault of the leviathan,
the snake of the feeling, reasoning, willingly, knowing terrible pain is on its
horizon.
it might destroy
emotion, radical essence, unorthodox relations—driven, outcasted, ousted, a raggedy
reputation; doesn’t matter his heart, doesn’t matter her soul, if they come
together—they shall be ostracized!
I become a
phantom, on a dear night, with communion feeling relaxing; the underground we
live, the fire woes made diamonds, alive again despite trauma. so sexy at art,
so determined to let go, so unsteady like a woman at full composure. the valley
of my sins, the repercussion of those years, bouncing like fury to address the
alligator. a damn caiman, eating a shoebill, becoming a monkey. I thrash
wilderness, I maneuver in jungles, I became a jaguar—the laughs of the demons,
the giggles of the spirits, the voiceprint of the psychiatrist—so unraveled,
seated on high, looking down on myself.
pay it no mind.
dream with clarity. become more of an ancestor. certain to win, like success,
with physicality chained to its guillotine. more to racing, jogging in
memories, too long the valley of my cries. unmoving. lost in realism. like
afraid to sin—those trespasses, I do feel sorry, wild in a daze—can only repent
so long!
