Thursday, March 12, 2020

Daughters Explore The Cosmos


I haven’t by sunny florescence this hunch this canine this growling or/ gnats lavender by conception at midbrain this caged receptacle or days fed to existence/

You watch where you learn you sing achy essence/

We sense animosities or pure one-sidedness insomuch as the world is victimized or/ salient citizens living salient lies while needing the face tinkling with platitudes/ at courage to persevere at innocence by flames in sawdust or creatures catering to deaths or/ gravity tugging as it enflames ardor while one is so ashamed, they must ostracize.

I remember with bias
our dryness or rags or fears became closets.              while or where as a man becomes putty or/ pure resurrection while elements stand dysfunctional/ too rewired or too unsung insomuch to love with angst.
those filters are for exhaust those alleys are
tropes while adoring is by memory this anxiety by emotion such reason to exist where others are vigil or permanent impasses so linked to fury or shame while a man must regather.

These seismic oceans or blended polyester or acrylic with agonies or yarn for concentration;
whereby others are frustrated where chairs are falling plus the newborn is named Ichabod.

The walls are rising the boarder is fresh murder while penalties are casted; so esteemed for thunder or bathing in aluminum such kicking to open closure those fretting absolute promise or needing grogginess if but to continue pure chaos—where a soul is bleak or a kernel is cracked while we grapple at seas; this wolf-like circumference or this valley coyote such tempest swarms the kingdom; a fury of fissions a destitute desert or a cloud as oasis where mothers are fretted or children are hidden while one is abiding in faith without works; but a man extinct or a man at tremors insomuch as it has outlived for but its silence.

I couldn’t where others are glad to as holding darkness; but jamesia skies or romantic kisses or so close it shouldn’t perish; so many snapdragons so short in time while an inner leprechaun is nudging softly; but days are essence while becoming by midmotion where carpenters carry sandpaper; a selfhood swan or a lazy essay or a diligent mental; for spoor is airborne where many are watching, but the threat is our agreement by silence; as to imagine—such as shifting—where others too might need to grovel; but upon a bract or whittled by sunrise so outstanding we actually pause; this place in daughters this sail in romance while Italy has become her promise. It seems silly while days are measured insomuch as cries are answered; the splendor of life growing where many would opt for ignorance, for truth would ruin everything; or one forgives to forgive again, and then he reads Proverbs; but yours are hybrid teas or chocolate roses or blackdamp survival where ember churns or essence blossoms at tennis with solutions; indeed, it becomes colorful where hope is stargazing and honesty has become perennial.  

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...