Found in a situation, religious eyes, glossy, glowing,
cautious of sunlight, precious hearts, and diamonds. Such classic insights,
attracted and unbeknownst in the why, so pure in its age; a younger soul,
everything is tremendous, raving beauty, nothing is soiled or too gray to love.
Time shadows the silhouettes and days act in sequences, subsequent to its
unlikeness—by battle to adore again, by war to un-jade those jaded, by miracle
to un-classify envy—either/or, nor those rubies, so close it hurts to breathe—a
standing fount, metallic identity, wealth in poverty, souls located. Like roller
skating, taking a scrape, it’s destined to happen—those miles in essence, the
hawk in its winds, swooping, swearing by its nature, to have immortality. Found
in a situation, religious tentacles, glowing in darkness, rhythm made, slipping
into consciousness; as a small creature, a petit soul, located in invisibility,
in each pleat, jousting with illusion.
