To have a dream—to have vision, to live an epistemic
life; at her epitome, swimming through emotion, neurons causing motion. It isn’t
enough! So early in summer—threshed by reality, fretting art, listening to
ballads.
So bewitching—a soul sits on pash—losing it to gain
it, Life’s Cycle.
Catching an outline, purchasing chalk, ecstatic and
fearing to adore you.
A lacewing is on high; mind alliance; unborn
fiction. How to have touched rain? So
much to have lived—prime addiction.
Through marsh and waterweeds; through dying to live,
and living to evaporate—deterioration, parts dissipating, old age chasing.
See-through like skies, too far to see, becoming glass
upon a snowstorm. I miss silent
debates, innuendo arguments, at a table disputing lies, and no one discerned.
A bag of oranges, a neat conversation, Love as koan. To
know life—to ignore understanding, to sugar wires.
