Eating
numen. Bathing in esoteria. Confusing humans with excellence, as if, it can’t
go higher. A white lie. A black age. The cage of the brains. So epic, so past
the horizon, like a demon in me. Fumbling over twine, listening to her heart, I
might have the combination. Love is a mink, paint tossed, it nearly touched
God’s ear. Watching the whip, so social, the husk is inside. Many fibs, if to
disguise the feeling, I was lethal for a season; it came to brains, the beauty
in her arc, I would never want to let that go. So reborn, a Jesus fanatic, such
zealous prophets. I sit thinking harder. Imagine the miracle in monogamy. Those
immortal ass powers. I was deprived. Mother was the first I analyzed. She gave
me keys. So deep in violin, so many pianos, it looks so different now. I fret a
twinge. I hear the skies. It’s otic pains. A torch in us. Some miracle in you.
You just watch, feel and try to forgive. So much fuel. So much bile. I smile it
off. I’m accustomed of dysfunction. Like a major fight, an hour later, talking
like nothing happened. A vile man. Roaming the account. Too discreet. Hated for
management. I take a nib and make it a problem. The toxic woman—the foolish
man—like never a deeper connection. Maybe a nautic voyage, of a mind-ship, so
close, so strange, so electrified; each fiber her soul, each knife my back,
each fight, a little more inversion.
