I didn’t say it, longing to share it, desperate to expose life; mindset problems, Christmas Eve solutions, the rain was beautiful; never too far, never so close, pure terrific darkness. Nothing more precious, nothing so devastating, ever thrown into winter. Such bliss the resurrection, a little restless, pacing in circles. The spirit is a desert, a full city, a faraway town, so neat, so irritated, yearning—as was surmised; wide open, tiptoeing brows, falling the endless sphere: surly sunrise, moonlit, feeling untethered. What is girth? Calling. Drums busted. Skies trembling. The last to adore it.
I was smitten with it, capricious for it, sudden to unlatch. Such a miracle when present, so lost when chasing, it’s better to know humanness. A little concentration, a super-house, storage inside—
Mindset problems, indebted to the Great Whisper, such a minute to see it.
