I
induce with fire more estranged from essence or too involved to notice nuances;
these daydreams in fluorescence or back-memories at souls while inclined to
fall by fever; that subdued inclination or those pearly green intuitions while
we melt for certain encounters; so at this feeling in you our hives and harms
in you if but to die a smidgen in you; bold carryovers at sheer imperfect flames
or so hung for gasping afraid to let go; such ravishing tyranny at such
cravings it aches where travesty and harmony seem spectrum insecurities; so gouged
inside reaching into contemplation where you strut and gamble and talk heinously;
but somewhere we essence in blue treacheries as creatures enlove with music
while nothing about us is sacred; our California lies our desires met
regardless while nothing makes us special; wherever to cry in you as ever to
dislodge from you while agony is so pure in you; those empty glasses those
champagne endeavors at such deception in our mirrors; to need those feelings to
garage a nightmare as so cursed or so blessed the tragedy of our blackbirds; these
wooden paths those oaken grays where never such wit permeated four walls;
electric dynasties or galvanized hip motion where aside from need it was
perfect to love us; those mountainous delicacies swooshing into speed and
lightning at such raging dramatical(s): oh, to treasure something without cries
or devotion or sanctity or treason; to have total satiation as two that die
turquoise in lavender depreciation; our values so moralistic our contradiction
but a farce or so burgundy it doesn’t quite relate; as running creatures so
advertised to our souls while something nonchalant becomes compelling; our
indifferent paradoxes or those crises we decline to mention while something
permanent seems so irritating; not as improper hope but something precarious
where humans need utter determination; those twelve hour films those repeated
affirmations or something composing our mutuality; our nervous hearts or those
soul-quake eyes, and erstwhile, something by complete grayness is trespassing our
quarters; those antique clichés where oatmeal is cinnamon and personality is
premeditated; our talisman conversation while peering deeper at threats and
ransoms confused in our souls; needing more supervision or lighter rules while
something addles and disturbs where music is uncertain; if but more freedom
this exchange so radical where nothing has ever felt so correct; these charms
in your grays or these ribbons on your land while so proudly we need
resurrection; to hold palms our chambers screaming or into something too
promising to weaken; feeling permanent or laughing by concrete while reaching
for tropes and bandages or wines and temperaments; our platinum rhinestones or
those fervent frail fevers, at pure cultivation our tillage’d predicament.
such
sunlight sanctions, such beautiful blossoms, at ages and sages and pathways;
our antennas spatial or demonic or angelic—our contradiction in our veins;
wildflower havens such acute demonstration our bond so unbreakable; those
compatible gestures those gentle feelings as fretting our existential funeral;
to adore as kleptomaniacs our porticos upon our spirits our piccolos threshed
by silence; those unclear clouds or those nebulous emotions while wrestling
with interiority; but inferior flames looking for the biggest fire while
sleeping on continuity; those physic circuits or those ravenous assertions
where one has thought deception through; this paining piano or this patient
passion while in flux persistently path-distorted; to find this inner person or
to pursue this higher essence if but to lose something pleading its dimensions;
such futile concerns where most are deep humans and tussling with our selfish
harmonicas; our heartfelt prisons at feelings needing validation if but to love
and adore in an appropriate understanding; (and so many wounds, or so little
time, while needing a friend’s existence).
