rightly by wrongness—innocent wraiths, flowers &
desert sands. In
taken for granted, riven indecision, whispering love
& sharks;
by frustration, held like dying, years to
culmination—needing water, thirsting for thunder,
reborn, more in its sinning.
To desire a creature, losing oxygen, pledging what
he can’t keep, weeping in satisfaction.
Too young to keep eternity. Too old to claim infinity.
Undressing with intention.
Disputing blue ocean.
Wily games divide us; never close enough; raffled
by impertinence, cleaving to excellence—as rites into
hearts, as dreams into clouds.
Trying to love—as never before, winning before losing;
sheer deception, one is too smart, moved by
arts—cautious, frantic upon a scar.
So intimate, they walked away.
So uncured, they roam hospitals.
To long for celebration. Dark brown eyes.
To have died frequently—like no one cares.
To know goodness—with wings to sail.
In desire to love, finding something to adore, nothing
is guaranteed; its escape, to remove permanence, to freely crave, in its sinning,
we find pieces of freedom.
