Promise might
strike, fraught by emotion, raw catharses; violent birth, visceral anxieties,
followed by schism, circumcision, and light; plaid particles, character
confusion, lacking components.
There’s a place
souls travel, a vulnerable space, much deeper than what I can conjure up … to
feel love as entity, to desire reciprocation, to pledge existence to another
creature … over sober intensity, so steep it’s somber, so explicit it hurts …
to function through another person, so fiercely steady, made a creature of
passions … I notice this space on
holy grounds two made incomplete
without each other.
Gray pictures,
colored adventure, spectacular undulations. If two would become absorbed, to
live, eat and pray in each other … so ideal, made in some land, seeming
religious, enigmatic, a saga in a story, fraught by fever, fervent in its
release, maybe too gray for measure.
