in
alienation the tides are heaving.
in
hurting another, I hurt myself.
it
sounds like folklore, albeit, it’s true.
meanwhile,
over yonder, mind is wreaking
vengeance;
so told against seeing
so
close to breathing
the
body is aware of its mortality
the
soul has much to knit.
numen
zeal captured lemur spirits; so
epic,
as time unveils, the gathering
of
secrets.
upon
a miracle, it dawned upon
me—blight
is blithe, tinge of anger,
most
attempt to shield reception.
whips
and minks, hickory made social;
given
rebirth, an actual property,
used
for and against, an inrush—her
spirit
swarming awareness, her
understanding
made frightening—
if
to need to ruin it, commandeer it,
or
unsettle some joy others are
with
fierce winds, cattle leaping,
waxing
into battle, galloping, the
horse
sweating power.
reborn
means redeemed. tenets are
argued;
with some, upon a nib—they
never
fib, and upon a scar, they
deteriorate.
in
alienation the tides are heaving.
in
hurting another, I hurt myself.
