Panting near ponds, in some dream, never as unique as
illusion; far into refreshing omens, aboding in hearts, by nature, into
valleys. Numen properties, in Pain’s name, to wonder where science comes from;
constant inquiry, loss and damages, trying to prove or disprove logic. An
object made spatial. A critical self-review. By anxiety to make haste.
I was at Sullen
Estate, to cross paths—with rubies, diamonds, and science; made peak
of pride,
dynasty of souls, short on humility. What gives more in excellence, presumed
in natural
spirits?
Most sensitive art; years trying to catch religiosity;
tugging at intangibility.
Many words have been drained—of essence and visibility—souls
feeling invisible, existential, with courage to fight more days.
Managing thoughts. Surrendering wills. Searching
fuller memories.
I new
miracle and soul, mind and mirrors, structure and dissatisfaction; alike to
rhythms, beats, jazzy emotions, seeping into realities—made plural!
