may I be honest? the
majority are disenchanted. we are given pithy aphorisms, to wash away—the grayness,
the utter disrespect, and the war on schooling has become dismissive.
upon a rose, feeling
and fleeing feelings, those niceties, the ribbon on high, hips with vengeance,
uninterrupted fantasies.
let the proverb read:
“It happened later in his life, from an unsuspected person, a man was repaid
for what he pleaded forgiveness for—years prior.”
the sheer irony of
the racing animal, speeding to win, losing out to a calmer, serene, lesser
equipped creature.
we ask about what is
sacrificed, suspended, forgotten—ideals are effacing normality—the human need
to dance alongside the shadows—pure darkness, to feel terrible, as walking into
a similar distrusting, disgusting situation.
by the love of the
animal, to determine what grayness looks like, so polite about losing control;
it happens on occasion—the oddities in the persons, many winning, and still not
content.
it’s shallow to dote
over beauty. but we pride beauty. in all of her works, she needs us to speak to
her beauty. like a noose—each person dying, if to stay beautiful, until we age—still
quite beautiful—if some element is missing.
many suppositions, hypotheticals,
one might accentuate the unappealing aspects; in a situation where theatrics
are pivotal, life enhancing, so close to breaking science; or quite un-requiting,
frustrating, two missing what’s obvious.
imagined as second or
third in line, always this order, the kids are cruel, now adults, trying
desperately to hold their place in line.
or quite intelligent,
pure strategists, moving, at points, to the head of the line.
admiring a person is
easy, remaining enchanted is hard, falling into exhaustion depends on a given
space in life, at the time of the encounter.
let the proverb read:
“After years of existential recovery, two decided to give eternity to each
other.”
