…atomic
exposure, furious flames, or dreams disguised in gravity: those feral
creatures, this midday touch, as souls think in unison: our graves rejecting
silence; our screams quite inaudible; or panic inverted singing its justice:
alive and living, peering at something incredible, and weary this intimate
nature: those alarming eyes, that inadequate, languishing speech, or
temperaments indicative of foreign cultures: therewith, our deep anger, as soon
converted energy, to die while breathing sin. I feel phlegmatic, as dining with
realities, where a slight fever enters our corridors: this slim dynasty, or
this vivacious enterprise, to have such feelings destroyed by romance: this
semi-human, this divine creature, to search brain-vestibules: where love is
passion, or rabid absence, if cut for wrecked sipping ginger: those remote
islands, this terrible confession, or this silent maniac: to thrust for
survival, to have many suitors, while at Love for exhausted: thither, a
nightmare, fraught by anticipation, while desperate for an overhaul.
…we
met fire, we climbed ladders, we made with Philistines—those inner realities,
this hard-pressed presence, or this inability to breathe: at titillating
thoughts, looking into heirs, as
realized this prestigious deception: that robust fragrance, that woman made by Songs of Songs, this light and rich skin
pressure: those lucky hairs, that adored chin, those fortunate panties….
…by
jackal essence, or zebra calmness, while listening to rhino anger: this spirit of spirits, or souls made by souls, to die a mere
encounter: this sweaty scalp, this wilderness beard, or personalities seeping
into dungeons: if but by fate, to have as electrified, to unveil and become
permanent: that deep enclosure, this ocean of feelings, or alert deepness
forfeiting feeble thoughts: thereupon, this raiding adventure, this prominent
vexation, or minds arrested by fantastical lusts: as looking for tormented, or
awaiting this flight, while conquered for ruined through images….
…go
ahead, steer imperfection, looking for passionate sprouts: this drug-emotion,
this fretted reality, this woman as never again: this spell of energy, this
warlock charm, or years to making a remote sky: this medieval mystic, that late
dynasty mystic, or this European mystic: as African shamans, or German
prosaic(s), while something vernacular runs a miracle: this flitted missile,
this monster dictionary, this ant eating destiny: to gut with demons, to love
with animals, to have and die attempting to rethread her intestines: that
slight shiver, that song of silence, this deep repentance: as fluttering
anguish, to want by desperation, while offended this short branch: our
wandering wails, our smitten ghosts, those holy grail mystics….
I
ached psalteries; I flung a flute; I was unrealized dying convictions: this
inner tune, this drumbeat existence, this meerkat human: those papyrus eyes,
that old country, this echo into his future: those nomadic palms, those anklets
and calves, or those tender bruises: at thoughts giggling, at minds needing,
while Love decorated a pendant: or combing through ambitions, if but that one
chance, at seven seas for Love! …that
unpaved heart, this exiled desert, to have such for lovers: those bold cries,
this inner heart, this electric feeling: to know recourse, or to shadow
remorse, sitting at this tree of Amore: that pagan mind, this Hebrew dynasty,
this Israelite damsel: or keepsake heinous, or locket breath-beats, where sound
becomes mystic: at lavish cries, that picture of blues, or that oracle
mistress….
