topaz eyes, marooned ethics, like
dice one language. the garage full—the mind carries too many—the last faculty,
the first conundrum—the few mixed meanings.
since I met you — the mysteries
appeared — I undergo, and move forward. the ridiculous claims — I’ll never make
them — will it account for lost cities?
filled with understanding. forced
to beg for mercy. laughed away. Dior anything, is too much, rather a pair of diesel
pants.
it churned all night. sometimes different
textures. I wonder of the textures: small, light feathers, heavy like me, airy,
a giggle inside – pure a thunder weight.
most at skies, a lark moving, so
starry at map earth – the geography of pushing, dreams of the last seconds,
with one getting freedom next séance. never our wings, different wilderness,
the passage goes into the hills—surrounded by the feelings.
I recoil, a feather in time,
tickled by dreams – racing at seconds, calmer those darts – a few knew the
situation. it seemed obvious. everyone was dumbfounded. the sorrow becomes the
art. walking through it, an afflatus registering, a person dies to get it even –
some never uncover the interior mine; redressed, at her eyes, much hope in the
exospheres.
a palm of ladybugs, an African in
spirit, musing lately, reading a little, Russia is at it.
the flow is water, the esoteria can’t
be cancelled, more they would – if to relive the stars.
the papyrus is thin. superstition
or reality? geometry or intuition?
Love is top tier, looking with
ease, head held high, fretting pain. oaken ores, large rafts, puffy vests; his
soul is moving, a taller tell, it will be mimicked.
many grasshoppers, we show love,
they make it worthwhile. private animosity. too much to leave alone. why would
it go astray? a million words—put it on seven, wake up the fallen!
closing. thinking. wigging and
zigzagging. to wonder of one so devastating.
the omission—the rapid growth—humans
age and look differently—pleading the judiciary.
