Ride the bassline into
horizon, bled blueness, describing the sun.
Trying to move,
paralyzed, Love so damn
terrific.
Emotions brewing,
feelings astray, so intent to find your world.
Eating pie, smiling,
the scent in an aphrodisiac.
Didn’t cha know!
I was freedom in
adolescence. You were art. It never comes back.
So we hold on
forever.
The brightness of the
rhinoceros, so bullheaded, I think I misspelled that once.
Purple clouds, violet
eyes, to see us naked—the days wake up too early.
Didn’t cha know!
I was silenced. They never
let me speak. I wanted an opportunity—if to make a mistake, if to create a
miracle, or if to make a wrong turn.
I must decide, at the
turnpike, so cavalier about pain.
You wanted peace,
serenity, the tranquil-unruly skies;
to see us laughing,
so hesitant, trying to protect
something running its
direction.
I ate a phantom,
became a ghost, facing eternity. The pain is the extraordinary illness—the lakes
are heavenward; the lady is so mean.
If to give an
entrance, and let’s be honest, if to become every woman, it would be hell to
move my resilience.
The cold weather, the
hailstorm, the prayer for us.
