by contention of souls so sore so
meditated as if slowly roasting in sulfur. those tall lenses to have died at
infancy or has returned a new fury. to have needed you while I contemplate you
while many people have not a root; our casual two years our mandate for
excellence where reality was an oversight. as unabashed creatures so long into
disgraces our angst generating fear. (I knew it would die but not while I
suffocated, albeit, the journey was sweet for but a trial.) some have skills
those souls speak of triumph while we creek or write in colloquialisms. so
enamored such attributes where we seldom assert differences by wombs. a dear
faux pas a famous realism as a man might die for privileges. (I tussle
tumbleweed or by art as assassination such friendly anger. to read elements, or
bodies insync with language, while undercurrents are studied dissonance. those
watery fires or fierce kindness where a person is riding heroin. as
unapproachable, where it advertises altruism, but it might care only in its
portrait. the jolt of jousting. the jar of jam. or jailing in a jungle.) our
scars for rent, our behaviors to mimic what we despise, as souls becoming
opportunistic. I had no information. all I saw was physicality. all I knew was
a calm pursuit. we took to lights early. I never judged that wrongly. but there
was room for opportunity. (it seems unclear those commands speaking silence
where I behave in a way to control others.) it has been an irritant. or
something I remember. while sensed I’m drained but others tug for more. (it’s a
dark truth, but people seek your origin, and then they piano those wounds.) I
sound paranoid, or authoritative, or scared of intimacy. but life is
controlling or life is oppressive or life is some false phantasm; or life is
content, or life is submissive, or life is afraid of itself. our rolodex of
subscribers our women is chains or something appreciating debauchery. as feudal
gentleman, or sensitive souls, to find situations so often. to hide our lovers,
as never to admit our familiarity, insomuch as to exhaust of feelings.
