I saw a phantom.
so deep into my
soul—the whispers must be Jesus. can we imagine crucifixion for something
unchangeable, I’m sipping Cognac? the nights are streetlamps, made of concrete,
holding electricity—reminds me of humans, flaming in dreams, I felt too much to
ignore sakata(s). the woman is turned-up, filled with Elijah, so prophetic, so
vatic. I never died completely, even in deaths, I kept returning: deeper
insights, quicker deductions, sentient intuition. more into her, more afraid to
love her, more dependent on a chance encounter; more tolerating, with humans
and infractions, most are seasoned for someone perfect; once it hurts, getting
lost, while repeating same actualizations. I saw a phantom: bulletproof
emotions, same as a dream, like mental, smashing a Regal. upper class woman,
steady same life behavior, while wilder for one she can trust. I play piano,
looking to endure, if but to sing with cherubs; waterproof feelings, cascading
demons, but Love rests soundly. knowing pains, living existence, like crazy for
our ability. I saw a phantom. I was treading a path, many croaked there, so
alert to an inner scream. the breath of the cinema, the theater of the villain,
the woman of the mafia!
