In essence—each is responsible; in touch—each is a
whisper. In feeling you the earth in rain the fall of castles, more citadels
under siege; like location is a riddle, or needing to know isn’t of
self-portrait, too much patience in terrors; as died a wolf, to arise a wolverine,
much polite devil-may-care.
Enough with innocence; made powerful, earned treasure,
secured spaces;
To have beauty in souls, as unrealized, to know
sharing is necessary, of body, of soul.
By precipice,
to leap, a mind vanished & returned; or psychedelics in shrines, to explore
islands, as coming to the halcyon;
dying
to breathe, roving interior, to need to know stability:
Is it
for fear? Must it be? Has it become obsession?
A man never loved, as to love one abhorred.
It isn’t so deep, maybe greedy, to have of culture,
non-politeness.
The
mind must bend. At first glance, it makes little sense. The mind must examine,
fill in the blanks, and go inside the vault.
It
happens in pleats: interviewed, tested, he passed, he is a threat, he must play
ball, on given terms.
You dream differently. You know subtle & sudden
reality. Liking you is easy; you know the human agenda, the human psyche. I
just have issue with you. In confrontation the ideal was struck—It was once so naïve,
thus, so innocent, in art, so delectable.
Time
will reveal us. No matter the force, one should behave accordingly.
This
isn’t easy to adhere to.
