Feeling Like Naivety, or Unable To Feel Accordingly

the length of the savage the cabbage of the fields, so lavish, uncontrolled, a shadowed lunch. banks like liquor stores, cards like fevered panic—the signs the symbols, so naked, into a scream; so damn baked, if we knew, with begging seeming promulgated; more pressure, more treasure, making major measures; to love hating one, to hate loving one, such truths to a lie. sure figures multiplying, money spent like drinking water, a ghost filming me. Love is connected, like mafia splendor, like spiritual higher arcs—another knew it was different, like ghosts inside, such chills, so alive, certain to be embodied. at a known fact, success must be careful, what one would give—like cake, bodies unidentifiable, so damn incredible—a gorgeous ass fire.     if desire is ultimate, love is optional, the need is to be worshipped; this is how it happened, what a soul might give, in return for security. missed in graphics, a banshee nightgown, a half body floating; to adore guts, to fall feeling goodness, it’s amazing, some are able to invest—able to intoxicate.