…at
luxuries shinning, at honesties dying, or plagued by internal forces: but yours
is courage, this symphony of affections, those blurred realities: as coming
into, this land of womanhood, abandoned to studies: this plank of lullabies,
our crazed tendencies, to lose while winning: at quicksand existence, rabid but kosher, or mad for something seeming
foreign: at humorous segments, at rainstorm realities, our slurs and signs: to
give existence, awash’d in tyrannies, exclaimed as something precious: our
trenchant circuits, this symbol in chimes, at swords thrust’d as henchmen: this
incredible song, those incredible wishes, at present a nightmare underrated:
those physiognomy impressions, this quadroon existence, while needing a certain
dialogue: our worthless clues, our passion waning, at life attempting at something
normal: at nonplus wilderness, at immortal love, or freedom seeming a
particular freedom: this wealth of cities, those irregular pressures, this
redeeming college adventure: if but three glories, if but three charms, if but
something resembling normalcy: because life was gentle, plus, evolving, to
realize life as one competition: improbability gambles, as fate becomes an
enchantress, where existence becomes a wrestling match: our tales for lunch,
grappling with tall stories, while afraid to point at inconsistencies…our
spellbound literature, our trying hearts, our mental software—as deep in
trenches, at tales with giants, while raving over something questionable….
I
felt a glitch—roaming interior countries, spacial for traumatic: this solo
voice, against this conglomerate, where souls are claiming religion: this outcast,
this feel good high, at terminals reciting electricity: our murals in psyches,
our psyches driven, while something is holding pavement: while born to
intimacies, alert to compassion, but slighted by occurrences: this life in
vows, those vows trespassed, our existence dependent upon tear but foggy: those
inconsistent seconds, those leaking truths, while we must ignore such
penchants: our new day breezes, our fabulous morning, our need to reassure
something guarding our fortress: indeed, this life of romances, those truths so
delicate, while wanting to reward kindness: those inner travesties, or this
blank encyclopedia, while late nights writing in dark print: at metaphorical
life, at simile and dance, at lyric and compromise: this existence by
wilderness, this tragic reality, or chanced as one keeping secrets: that
rapture of pegs, this rapture called upon, or love seeming impervious.
…something
is tugging, this energized particle, this list of captures: our travesties in
lightning, our rehearsed responses, or those particular trespasses: our needs
for perfection, while seeming imperfect, where such and such has a family: by
seething frenzies, those normal emotions, while feeling guilty: to watch a
certain essence, to need a certain undertone, while rarely at articulation: our
souls at gates, our gates at fences, our fences awaiting our command: this
inner building, upon its pillars, while our winds seem silent: this place in
tension, at sights unmentioned, where something private pinches consciousness:
at torn feelings, abashed by reality, while harboring a few resentments: but
yours is courage, this orchestra of passions, while running for affected
deeply: these tragic realities, to haunt our adult relations, while seeking
guidance: this internal feud, those atypical anxieties, or something seemingly
unimportant: that need for balance, so far into existence, to sudden upon
bended knees: our mild understandings, our medium resonance, at required
delicacies: that lingering forecast, our cloudy living rooms, or this doorpost
seeming with presence: our intrapsychical realities, our brains manifesting
lights, where something out there impresses upon something internal: this
roller kite, those small dolls, or particular essence: to recite softly, a
valued belief, while thunder plagues our whereabouts….
