I never needed to die, death is chasing, color means so much. I stand on my word, my eyes swell to say it, I still play naïve. I can hear lessons, gripping iron, it’s profiling, it’s a fence, it’s prison grounds. no one knew the penalty, some all-day freedom, we start to wonder. I was palming ashes, the skies were filled, not with clouds, more ambition. I fretted over noncolor. I was sick in my daisies. never touched like that, thought it unique, we seem to do similar things—most trying to explore dangerous, forbidden zones. I never needed to die, death is chasing, the bassline is drilling, the gut is remorse—or forgiveness, must admit it to this mirror, or go batty.
most doing
sameness—of character, of behavior, running out of time. she aged well. too
gorgeous for nonsense. most guys go nutty for her. what now!
on occasion, one
appears like prophecy, so different, others get angry, it’s not the person, it’s
the temptation—planted by seeds, nestling inside begonias, daffodils,
sugarberries, pain, death, redemption.
much more to find,
serious over establishments, she sits, so scarred, so terrific, it’s real life.
many can’t deal
with concrete, years chasing abstracts, or so defined, it doesn’t matter. her
shape causes problems. her beauty is coquettish. been chased so long, or deprived
of the absolute, now, riddles seem appealing.
without her
approval, nothing evolves, nothing flies without rain.
I was so into ideals, guts stripped of ideals, I finally live, death chasing, we play chess, I’m getting good. too wild to go the distance, each will sacrifice, searching for mutuality.
