Friday, January 10, 2020

Most Dungeon Daughters are Unaware


so easy to adore you while alienated from you where laughter becomes sadness; in deep retrospection, while heaving guts, eyes blurry from tears; such frantic concerns such stimulus packages insofar as an astute distraction.
to feel you watching while becoming responsible or realizing self-deficits; theological ideals or philosophical medicines where something is ever missing.

I have lived abated so lessened in life at terrible havens; such to pass gently at a sudden voltage to imagine a Zen Artist watching; our dearest behaviors to self-analyze as to wonder concerning our behaviors; indeed, I behave naturally or I feel binoculars as needing approval; either/or, such delicate necessities, such deliberate behaviors, while darkness by reapers haunts our mirrors.
I ate peanut butter with jelly, alarmed by my senses, while something was rising intently; to adore so
emphatically, as a secret I’ll give you: one remains unmistaken from a distance.

it catches us this slight mistake while afforded one dance; to fly abandoned to feathers while society is ever plucking; this fair understanding this fairer mistaken life while a man is more than his delusions; this mental battle this constant assessment as confined but free and living in shames; to hold your palms to see your eyes or to love while lost to dinosaurs; but those were trees as leaves fell while a daughter nibbled a twig.

            I met a couple these rare creatures while each underwent years of dedication.
            Such intimate training while lives are romantic to receive as giving intestines.

I know for certain such things I can’t vet where one swoops into physics. I know for certain this incredible ambiguity while too vague to assess concrete.

such black-faced-moons or such tigers at suns to elope with one dearly astray—those catnip majestic(s) this mystic secluded or one I might applaud while walking away; as curious features so alive at moments to meet one sick and psychotic. our fever undiagnosed our medicines for war-fragile at such indiscreet privacies; those pavements giggling this guffaw so tender where a man would die to touch one fatal mistake.

but I love you thinking, this film we must endorse, while education becomes primal exclusion; so aloof to this, where death was lively, while I complained like churning; this burning filament this fragrant fiber accused even deceased while fire is laughing.

If but to re-sing or to resend metals into an engagement too cryptic to attend; our minds linking our feelings flaring into emotions where our guts are connected.

I’d Save The Reader Years

    The beat becomes sickness. A long crucible—a drilling ecstasy. I was losing focus, feeling forbidden, if to self, if to mirrors. So curs...