frustration. many never heard it. his eyes, his smirk,
many never understood it. some dream inside. with fluster brewing. tales told
to children. from soul to gut, from arc to spirit, framed with passion. i would
disappear, standing closely, to achieve indifference. likeness of passivity.
daring the great star. if celebrated, what aches ribs, with kidneys
barking—flame of intensity, feelings anchored, the greatest thieves? i imagine
a soul, wanting reality, skilled at frustration. battle of sharks, whale-elephants,
a soul will carry infinity. most demonized, most celebrated, despite trying not
to, humans will feel each ripple. flight of the pinguins, bells and scars,
anything to appease the great monster. lilies and pearls, darts and insistence,
needing something simple from strangers. each memory inching forward, each
thought reknitted, each moment a potential agony.
