by
rate into pressures where dying is sweet deliverance; those casualties as a
drift into winds while struck as needing more comfort. such mecca-dilemmas sure
to breath association as born into naturality. by goosebumps or clumps of skies
where they venture the soul as maddening. we never wonder much but it stands for
reasoning while we watch our cinema. either way those silver clouds
where life seems so tragic. as royal thieves a man’s vendetta while he rages against his brains: such sedition inside such mental insurrection as begging but rats gnaw bone structure. so much by loyalty too hard to suffocate if but so close so ravaged so into each morsel. by field or dynamite by angst or terror—the dugite mouth, those cherries meaning so little or a woman to appear where resurrection is so simple. the eating of oak those reminders in guts so set to rescue grandparents;
the pain as it travels those aches fretting their healings while eyes seem too irrelevant: those cries as so loud so attuned where I awaken in an empty room: I see a tortoise, it disappears; I see a gecko, it talks violently; so much an entire rosary—as miles splay or deserts implode such a creature flayed by tornadoes; so amplified so into your doom while fretted into a larger dungeon: its dear reaching, our minds grieving, but nothing shall change! dirty water, muddy mayflies, a filthy
lotus—as wings
welted or the tragic weal so trapped so destroyed refusing to cooperate—a woman’s conviction a flight into gods while a boulder awaits the afterlife. tell the story of Precious. or those sagas unraveled. alas! tell of the manic that broke freedom! for death isn’t sweet, it must unbelt if but to construct life upon something false: by volcanic oils by deserted prisons by real life disgusts; a radical nut a lip trembling while feelings become numbness.
