at
sweeter memories regathered memories so knit together but cheddar memories;
this loud flicker this forced admission while antagonism baptizes. I have
retreated neatly where wisdom projects a softer cushion but unfounded; this
drawer of intuition such reaching foresight while abandoned to this sunrise desert.
—sudden into fever alert but deceased or feelings flung in fury; to hate a man
forever, notwithstanding, interior conviction, where all a person realizes is, He
told the world! —this penchant ostracism where it becomes so natural while
the author is sad it came. such living mentalities, such walking violence, our
souls deeply unseated; but passion is awake insofar as love is winking and
time is on hiatus—
it
seems a difficult plateau this pensive wistfulness while inhibitions are often
lethal; those closet elephants or those bedroom whales while one disputes
intentionality; listening to sentence structure or looking at something seeming
like shyness insomuch it behaves like embarrassment; but passion is awake
insofar as love is winking and time is on hiatus.
I
move over that way at a serious inquiry where I wonder if humans can refrain by
existent duration; our blueberry charms our arms
glitching at such glint and beauty she seems so terrific; where over-there a
woman sits so expectedly so silently so saliently; (our dreams about expansion
our needs so critical thitherto our minds replaying our actions and days seemingly
refractured); but agony or anguish or tales and layers while we die and exist—this
portrait so annexed those petals so solitary or pure seduction seeming most
important—this land of sociology this space where adults adventure or so
uncured and so raw a few nice words seem so fantastic; those neat guilty
compassions at something waiting while it comes to inherent flaws:
—otherwise,
we dare admit a glitch in perception.
I
have catapulted an idea while sensing something critical our mothers and fathers
left something behind. at rich intake and dynamic feathers where good means it
caters forever and it dances forever and minds meet forever—in this existence
of nets this peril we face if but to come and say, I felt weak today; but
tragedy is triumph and life is realness where one might not lead us in our
direction but rather in his; such wrenching imperfections such hyper jealousies
or by miracle we meet something so detached it’s pleased to aid us in redeeming
our winnings.
—I
have catapulted an idea where persistence becomes a monster or lenience becomes
more havoc or forgiveness means negotiating new rudiments; for I felt weak
today and I devastated our miracle and I need you to forgive me; where passion
is awake insofar as love is winking and time is on hiatus; this year’s end
while egos are demonstrated and deadly hither inheritance is calculated
conservatively; so, wither this feeling while deliberating over our privacies
while neither could hope by existence—this pit of pages this pail of Prozac so
patient with partitions so prayed into a phoenix and dearly occupied by pain;
but we dare admit a glitch, notwithstanding, our terrible emotion so graphed,
so terrified, and demanding our identity—.
