Monday, June 13, 2022

Sub-Communal

 

The reason is evident. The neglect comes by promise—of emptiness, blackness, wilderness. All of my soul. All of my heart. To obey an insecurity. I moved a device, dear to decimated, at a problem in perception. So much in the forests, so much in the fields, so forever to walk away. By a birdsong, to have her so conceited, so arrogant, like terrific terrors. All I have to offer. All I could muster up and give. So much a disruption: most when I enter the region, swooshing and swishing, like a distress signal. If for lowness, a terrible treasure, to have sensed it gone astray—those tiles and tortures, those realms and realities, contradictions, to sense it might become legendary; too much towering, too much terrific, too much cultic calamity.

Some type of absent presence, aberrant awesomeness, reborn like rationality; to see it in a person, the roundabout excellence, as it grows, the remorse of the headless horseman; feeling removed from essence, the church self, roaming a lost, long, road of rebellion. Too far away made close, spirit swooping, a person’s intentions become an energy—carried into regions, afield and galloping.    

PS.

    The strength to withstand the winds; a spell as it effects/affects some creature. A sudden moment filled with absolute certainty, so wro...