scissors
to the paper, frolicking with ideals, cursed blessings.
origami
pains, trans-made penalties, auburn, black eyes—somewhere asking for rains.
eating
diesel, eating those temperaments, amazed how one is forced to respond; a
problem in his guts, a faulty intuition, how in hell to misguide self!
abraded
emotion, nimbus cries, numen autumn. repeated motion, a razor to product, been
a longer day. those pouty eyes, begging prior to axes, wild feats, stuffed
pride.
ablaze
me, infuse skies, see lights flickering like gold; counting miseries, so far at
times, close in an instance.
touched
much ink. he touched more. a true hustler. a mean soul. I stab out, hit
traffic, spark a cigarette and look in my rearview.
awash
me, baptize my brains, it only works with application; people waiting, like a
miracle is easy, it may happen, God needs participation.
I
told a secret: “Return to me, and I’ll return to you.”
it
speaks to initiative, works, self-possession.
we
look mean, a room filled with souls, each reading a book, each glowing, each
fretting his heartbeat.
they’re
looking, they’re on prowl. I wonder what the fuss is about.
wrong
hands! wrong dance! it hurts, looking at reflection, held down by obligation—still
lethal, so legalized, it wasn’t my first thought.
