Saturday, September 7, 2024

I See Trees & Distance

 

 

It would be one preserving innocence, forcing some reality. Indeed, to enjoin hells. Treasures aren’t enough. (I desire a feeling.) If to oblong experience, if to suffuse an empire. Loving is mysterious—mountainous terrain, ravines, ravens, and canyons. Trekking has been excellence, terrors, betrayals. I would exult a pedestal. As if some aren’t human. These were exhilarating days, hampered by darkness, sweet enlightenment. Pure existence; purer resistance; afraid to report reality. A cage for a lover, roaring for a lion, after something as it evaporates—one gripping vapor. Such decent rain. Such indecent apathy. (I would forget about human instincts, infatuated fully—

Phoenix furry.) Liking words. Conversing incognito. I stand in effervescence. I appear to senses. I drift into portals. (Such presence; to fall forward, to look evenly, part imbalanced, asking that it be removed.)

Born with tension, or fretting boredom, or afflicted by aspiration. A soul by swords. A spirit by prayers. So convoluted; Love seems disgruntled; Love seems tugged.    

Love swore by earnest pride. Love gave herself, her soul. To sit in a space. To remeasure a feeling. To pursue silence. 

Such incarnation, as into a life—

Ferric anima.

In giving by accordance to self, difficult pains, sleek whispers. I would to see some charm, reality headed to an ending, skiing emotions, conflicted anxieties. 

Uncanny truths, frantic perception—raspberry skies—if and only if, some crestfallen cadence, an art in bone. 

Such a deficit. To see with accuracy is privileged. With looking at self, we see inconsistencies. I would to have some kinship, a difficult minded arrow; thus, aiming, pensive targets, to forfeit an enterprise.

Cursed as it were. Blessed as it is. Intense religiosity. Rippling!    

Time was Brief

    With deeper allure—to ward off ghosts—melancholia is an empire. Such dialogue confuses—: one wrestling despair. It was remote living, in...