We
loosen essence, seemingly abandoned, at maniacal jeers: this feature settled,
this shift in chimes, this echo by eardrums: this invisible man, this satirical
soul, our balances screaming cliff-wires: our flesh coiled, our brains at
traps, and this cinema spider: those conditions, as particles by concrete, to
soon veto our scruples: this atypical giant, this lyrical cello, or this mental
umbrella: to have for passion, while laughing our charms, to simmer into pure
excitement: those burnished tables, that silken settee, this essential armoire:
at dances with silence, as feeling depression, where it felt good to elaborate. We lie for comforts, this partiality, this
unstable existence: to hope by eternity, upon something so insidious, while
disappointed by shattered glass: this fool in self, this dreamy-eyed dreamer,
to wager infinity upon trick dice: at wonders about suspicion, this cheerful
palm, this wilderness of children: our taught habits, our granny’s gloom, our
lives mimicked: as mother would live, as so we invent, realizing this charmed
fate: indeed, as mother, indeed, as father, where we witnessed utter
destruction…this inner insanity, to outwit circumstances, and livid where
victims speak commonsense. (…to shift
through grime, sensing radical devotion, while realizing that summer was
tugged: this tortured alliance, this can-do
existence, where turmoil becomes our root: this oaken web, at mirror jeers, but
so entrenched by flutes: this outer miracle, to die by radiance, to have one expecting
tragedy: this calm friend, our essence fears, for deep to gut lives guilt:
indeed, this terrific enchant, this touch by insanity, and our senses threshed
by abrasions: our rehearsed smiles, our lovely fascinations, or our hope in
strangers: this miracle person, that
needs what I need, and it hast to be
true: for life is hectic, and I need
this vest, and I dreamt this song…). …where souls live, this rosy dream,
this steep electricity: our minds to secrets, while setting foot to dynasties,
where riches are frontier existence: (our options dictating, this space in
screams, this remote island: to find with honey, this field of marshmallows,
such sweet cocoa: to touch mind-creations, to creature with existence, to
essence with animals: our believable love, at straights with unbelievable
ambition, to harness with life this foolish endeavor): our flapping feathers,
our wretched seconds, as to listen intently: or more to passion, those
accepting suns, by such incandescence….
…by
sunlight contrast, this virtuous creature, this inverted lamb: such perfect
pleasure, such dear endeavors, such rumors of wholesomeness: notwithstanding,
those years by trauma, or this craving for knowledge, or such spotless
depression: by gracious fire, by Wisdom’s Image, this pious agitator: where
mother passed, where life ensued, while cautious to shun inveiglements: those
brimming colors, those limn lips, those bouquet brains: our dearest hope, our
reckless dreams, our moments to feeling existence: this vatic lullaby, this
nimbus sinner, this answer to pains: this trefoil of rainbows, this reason to
awaken early, this crimson miracle….
We
bond by charms, while feeling cheerful, or perceived as one reaching: our
flushed flesh, our silent fathoms, our tender pillars: as drives a feeling,
this tale about romance, this existence we wish to receive: as prepared deeply,
or reaching deeply, while perception does as it wills: those soft footprints, this wild soul-ache, those mental
voice-impressions: our father’s eyes, our mother’s brow, and those dreamlike
whispers: as gentlemen conveying, while sophistication admires, to know for
this space in dungeons: our cautious women, our forgetful men, those crocodile
cobwebs—as never we live, as such to essence, to touch for ruined laughing
insanely: that casual approach, to test us upstream, as salmon headed to
spawning.
