landmark
brains—flooding inner cities, at moments, pain might swell.
I
keep in contact, with each wound, a problem healing myself.
many
are gifted, solitary monsters, at digging deeper; a misty reflection, a prompt
epiphany, full discernment.
like
a mystic art, mental ambrosia, minds surfing silence, so sullen with happiness:
thankful
to feel ink, albeit, differently, I vow, perception is key to the piano.
I
see fangs—poison dripping, souls flaming, feared, fretting too much eternity.
too
much to ignore, so mis-intentional, where “I need obsession—I won’t return
sentimentality—just a need to prove wrongness.”
alright!
here it is …
…
the body is a machine, inside a piccolo, of more value than all that resides … so
much prided pain, such glorious rain, shifting, turning, rabid at it … a
costume made humility, a mind made crimson, a scarlet scar—nectar so damaging,
a man can’t come back …. pieces in breezes, features absolute, hearts changed—the
gut tripping, leaping, filled with sorrow—a manic at seconds, so possessed at
seconds, taekwondo arts, marshal arts, tai chi maniac—running into the forests,
raiding integrity, so dissatisfied—growing into eagles, laughing with goodness,
a collage of good times, a set of brains, digging from heights, plummeting
shallowness, so much terrible vengeance, so much interior diligence, an ache
for beauty, a need to be received, where something precious was snatched—that olden
person, she’ll never return, with each step, becoming someone new.
