I live on a spectrum, tugged at its
axis, the pendulum has acquired tentacles. so vague. the mind centered inside
of waves. essence, matter, psychic voltage, all become gray.
soil and clumps of grass. feelings
about ghosts, sensations beyond explanation, cries that become wingspan.
thoughts require oiling, sounds echo like rust, the music is London Grammar;
tiptoeing through sentences, gardens inside of hearts, vines leading to
sincerity.
chandelier eyes, worship made
perfect, the asexual spirits. tiring, screaming, sipping wisdom, heavy as
Goliath, the courage of David.
mental boulders, wrenching friends,
silence would auction agonies. brains vigil, the body at rest, innocence
symbolized as reindeer.
calmness. to cleave, to loosen
atmosphere, many spaces fueled, as in excited, by nothingness—,
mazes supply the semblance of
freedom. losing brings mourning. internal dialogue demands release. maybe a
sullen distraction, the deepness of the exosphere, the knowingness of kindness.
but at moments, blueprints are inhospitable,
war-fires, Pablo incarnate.
