The soul became a relic—her ambition to see God. How do we define her? The core essence, the meditated self, utter belief, solemn faith. In truth, a breathing sarcophagus, an interim catacomb, full of alleys and reptiles. I was with scripture. I made confidence. It touched repulsion. Brazen audacity; opalescent portraitures. To arise early in waiting; to listen for sky bells; to dig interior searching for artifacts. I was drawn to my own, the sin of my slant, positive the texture of terrors. Self-certified, a bonified apologetic, refusing to discover self. It was hell breaking chords, cathedrals filled with flames, relics in jeopardy.
I have a time with conjuring it up, albeit, with each piano key—it appears. It is like the mind resisting its intention, running with its nature, most frightened of losing itself.
By a thorn we dance; by aches we speak; most ancient arts are iconic—most dreams are unreal, at times, there’s correlation, disputed after the fact.
What I resist, as they say.
I might be able to assert the morning is brighter upon a thought. While one speaks of a liaison, I imagine a smile making harmony, always emphatic and delightful. I know they are fantasies, but at points, they excite, giving a feeling of purpose.
There’s meditative sadness to it; to make home with it; maybe it reflects incipience. To have closeness, to take courage, mentally uncovered, intimate in voice, appearing and retreating. A lighthouse of possibility, a harp upon a cloud. To conjure up pieces of the past, to know poetic madness, after so long, something is missing, and something was gained. We spend forever searching for certitude, analyzing each other, discovering something new; to knead a belief, to need it to stick, when in actuality—she dines elsewhere. I was ever a lad, running faster, longing for the great romance; it was advertised upon walls, it was discussed in school, it seemed to be the purpose of existence. I was never ready. It pushes me back to witness the power of a couple. To truly understand fragility, prowess, destiny and vulnerability. A relic in time, humans as souls, hunting and gathering—as we’ve perfected.
