most have private
morals discreet ethics, tell the news. special behavior. our own ideas.
our virtuality.
over breadfruit,
listening to falling weather, more winds to attend.
I see you as sugarwater, a sugar
apple, lost, born to be of assurance; many waves, at a beta-relationship, it
remains too inclusive.
most worry when afflicted, little
resistance to afflicting, but we need something beautiful.
our ancestors,
their sweat, the bass in tribal souls—the firebrick in Africa, those aqua eyes
on chocolate skin.
made into a cyan
azure, longing to make harmony, eating photoshop.
starlings.
by color we make colors; by tone we
assert our souls; by love we tell a fib or two.
sea green weeds, an inking fiber,
life after it’s over. chasing like a fool. seated in mishaps. too strong to
receive, too weak to trust, too hurt to start over.
eating
heart-bread, sipping soul-wine, circling a mindcave.
I remember meeting a lotus. they want
their own—someone softer in countenance, pliable, moved by every gesture.
we create ethics.
we make morals.
