love would remain a mystery. her
boundaries are unclear. most opt for unconditional love. make love the salt of
earth—an acrobatic sunrise—neuronic moonshine. the soul with love—aquatic passion—stemming
from flattery, self-interests; if but what we tell, the body as it fell, so
great the inner ambition to rule—over tide and ocean, space and skies, moving
through motion and time.
what shirt has he worn? what skirt
has she mastered? silly questions.
by soul at its mirage, where souls
continue to chase and dream; needing some semblance of holy, while humans might
disappoint, in life, there is a great deal of forgiveness; but if time is good,
so much left understood, so curious about one participant; sweet dialogue,
restored conscienceness, new glasses.
so much an ascetic life, bottled up
in excellence, trying with desperation—if to be clean, wholesome, understood as
a pillar of the community.
we see Candy is different—the
want and dismissal of being a kept soul—a need for romance, a jealousy for the
vacation, so tragic, so unexplained.
by crucible of the soul—unto its
excellence—looking for the higher person.
