ever
closer the lever cracked so much needed to kiln in pains; to live like
invisibility, seen as a believer, witnessed as the last carnival; removing the
Great Curtain, unveiling elements, everything i’m thinking, you have
uttered. to stand on abstracts, the silhouette breeding, like musicology in
treacheries; and over yonder, to read my soul, to believe in us, so distant,
protecting existence; so much space, never closer, i couldn’t offer pure
security: i’ll grow tired, or too enlove, with fright at the matrimony—aching like
slaughtered animals, begging like divine nuns, at secrets like purgatorial
bishops. so crooked in time, a straight focus, with mountains growing; such
fury in forgiveness, wondering the praise as a queen, to have convoluted her
image of self. too perplexed to follow, too much remorse to sever, with a
belief in essence—the grander Walls. “Half tea, Love”; so tremendous the lock,
unlocked by familiars, it would never be utopia for pains.
