much friction, frequency, furnace
between us; much disenchant, desert, delusion. I was drawn like fires across a
plane, like deer to streams, like water tussles dams. some cartoon person,
searching for freedom, stalking bibles, built as a buffoon.
galloping gently, gathering fruits,
hoping upon a flagrant moon.
I looked at a match, it just sat
there, it doesn’t have mobility.
I spoke to a mentor, to see inside,
many might attest one’s growth.
Love was different; I think it was the pain; otherwise, nothing was
between us.
a lock needs a key. a box needs an
opening. most people need a friend.
so many concerns, loopholes, inclination, probability. I’ve said too much, while saying
nothing.
the garage becomes a storage space—similar
to hearts, minds, reservoirs; to have been closer, would it be murder, dealing
with idiosyncrasies? some
never go too far. we must admit
that. reasons are impossible.
invisible intelligence—nectar with
wine—bodies defining longevity; mental church bells, souls
running home, we never discover
until executed. it doesn’t come
as a forewarning, negotiation, rather, here it is!
I have projections. I don’t have
facts. I know each drives a person. some beatific madness—some innocent mistake—it
pays to carry marbles. such fantastic auras, such deeper audience, made perceptible
through hurting. if captured, I have no promises, others may promise all the
time. I came to understand—a deep
secret—honesty doesn’t determine what we need to hear—plus—everything becomes
mundane, trite, repetitious.
I figured she might alleviate that—un-weary
me, I never thought if she would be happy. a selfish thing, presuming
excellence, like one person’s love sustains the union. I needed obligation,
preferred depth of love, I needed her satiation.
