like
a lamb to its slaughter, or better, a lamb eager for its slaughter: those
intense gazes, or the nail into gristle, or raw, terrified bone. while a man
underlays existence or worthy to remain silent, where sore-essence vanished at
its points. such reversed sin or to imagine as never a woman or such covert
science, if we might say he was childless. by a holy whore so bent near
puddles as washing in sewers; or by passion an intense second to pour into
basins. so lost with you as so unstable with you while so found for living in
you. by desert locusts or wild hairs as it knots, tangles by dreads: fierce
fire, framed fractures, to feel, filter or presume. as dying to know you while
eating leeches or fretting more domination. that peak its edge or bottled in
sheer obligation.
(days ruminate where nights un-rinse so
moved by our dreams.) it becomes
extra-images or determined distraction where it’s difficult to receive by
absence. those glorious travesties those pierced wounds if but to dig into open
earth. where have we failed where we
feel excellent or circled by loving, unsuspecting doves; as never a thought,
for it must be perfect, while one might underestimate sincere eyes. our third desert, our fourth ocean, estranged
mostly from miracles. while concrete is trampled, or we have evidence, we have
certainty, while we still feel anger.
