We
dream through twilight, a sky of carrot stars, and claret moons. We
shun
comfort, content for but a moment, with silent sorrows. We come
to—to
feel embrace, cased in hives. We chase a sun, to glisten abyss, a
basket
of briers. We eat and laugh, gums filled with blood, trekking
wisdom’s
trail. We love it like liquor, torn for charms, ever to awaken;
and
what a dream, to tremble a light switch, while thrusting a pillow.
We
realize a life, a troubled adolescence, where father meant no harm.
We
feel it grief, rapt in bliss, to stumble to a porch; and more the patio,
staring
at oak, and chasing a gopher. It’s want for lies, and hearts for
gifts,
filtering sociopaths. I speak it lightly, for many love, to raise a
family.
Its cocaine tears, for cocaine prayers, to move the Ghost; and
yes
for sober, a cold paradox, to mince a countenance; and what to live,
to
know for help, and crying features. I see it for different, to envy herbs,
as
jealous as God. The tides are fierce, reading ‘Barth, blinking through
thoughts;
and eyes water, to hear her name, a woman for colors; and
ever
shade, a bit for harm, to heal a village. We love it green, to feel for
joys,
even a touch. I see it, naïve, to build for bricks, a psychic pyramid.
The
world is watching, even Big Brother, afraid to breach God. I do
infringe,
a grove of hearts, growing through friction; and yes its truth,
a
shorn impression, to see a feature; and what to love, a me in her, a her
in
me.
