such
devout passion—how to remain unsensual, unsexual, unenthralled? principles
devour art. pains are hewn by elegance. satisfaction is in moments, or
mesmerization. close enough to discount you. serene enough to see you. conflicted
enough to challenge piety. it seems a problem with history, a snare with
imprints, a cage in silence, with airs in freedoms. a warrior at his mirror,
gazing into himself, forbidden to rescue himself; longer rides, spinning carousels,
chasing the fair of the scream. a pensive man, holding a songbird, feeding a
dovetail; with a second to see you, with a moment to re-dream you, made fulgent
in our eyes. (many would disagree, graphs seem unsteady, the dam drips its
resilience; most gelid resistance, from palm to booklet, if to harness each
mechanic. you have clanked cymbals, become absorbed, what is it you distrust?)
it can’t be simple, it can’t be envy, where, it can’t be against what it can’t
be! some deep agenda, a man must submit, infrequently, he shall dream. such
devout science, how to remain sentimental, beneath salience, aloof to
stigmatism? it’s fair to point to inherencies—the soul as it moves—becoming
philosophical contradiction. it seeks differently. it enjoys with fervor. it
defines it fiercely. by-and-by, made countless, throes made endless, committed
to ideals.
