Saturday, October 24, 2020

Confusing Fire

 

if you taste satisfaction as it lives shall it depart? so fusty as old-fashion creatures too engaged to flop. but life her secret her appetite! to adore with fury to zero-out while falling endlessly. to appreciate disaster to become evil such hands irreparable. by dungeon by area by welting concern. inner as inmost those dwelling eyes while I’ve said so little: those porch cries those patio wails where this is living; to hurt like abandonment to cringe like a sight horrible while frankly abused. by raw fatigue as Time would giggle where spaces are horseback. so nameless pursuing identity with realms facing oblivion. by mystic ingredients or cold isolation where it belongs to gray colors. a feast for hunger or poverty enacted where one needed to locate beyond freezing. such uncooked treason to have died too early while a lady might try one more again. so hopeless for love so over with dying where hunches are taken seriously. arcadian roses Peruvian magnolias while life is beautiful. tectonic endurance sea-sulfur shoulders where it’s wild how we endure.

                                    by rustic paradise so under pressure, where images float or dragons appear by curse or angel such dreary skies; but wealth is kingdom while death is manumission, if not to unfreedom.

at predawn so secluded where days re-sense core meaning. those pieces those wings while giving might come to hurt. to watch insects to drift in memory such reason to try undercurrents.

                                    at topaz ceilings or primrose ideals so lost or re-featured or a space filled with dragonflies. an edited photo a dear deterrent while minds are filtering pigmentation. a polygraphed bedroom a spirit tambourine or a timeless watershed. 

a cassock for her a robe for islands or a travesty for one unprepared.  

 

at noon tide those feelings as a man might exhaust his nerves; or look at agouti eyes filled with nausea, confined to adoring myths. bloody garments tarmac palms or Jesus feigning by souls. an ideogram as a symbol so cello into a night-scare. a maniac gaze, a picturesque smile, as a man becomes a statue. so overborne so hazy while painting us is by challenge. into Europe-Kenya or Africa-Australia to fret in hurt. our California yogis as running into fierceness as absolute melted steel. if to feel satiated at some incredible miracle while fighting to hold those cravings.   

I’d Save The Reader Years

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