I have choired
communion by radiant radar so much it seems mandatory. I have unknitted silence
as sacred sinning while unabused by a gentle gaze. those tender tentacles as a
soul sanctioned or jamesias upon a leaf. to have felt you to have ignored
senses such sweet debate in passion—our chief insults become our passing
laughter where language is uncritical.
by underbrush
so many pieces such pleasure in regluing ourselves.
I was unsteady
such a steady soul such correct chaos such muffled alienation; as appointed to
chambers those caves so cavalier over trauma.
we polish
armoires we recite our symphonies we sell our auras.
I have choired
communion as a creature charmed while understood in a narrow sense. depth isn’t
necessary. but quick assessments are agony. insomuch as depending upon such
comfort.
I can’t expect diligence especially for a stranger
when many are thin slices. such medallions for souls where reason isn’t enough
to find one exhausted upon a loveseat. sure into our aches to renege upon our determination
such soothing deterioration. it would kill art or destroy ballet if each would
a tender palm.
don’t tell me such
rotten words where silence has destroyed Haiti.
don’t give me
church for something lethal while patent is unstable.
such yellow primroses such glorious sunrays so
precious it agitates. to become moved by incapacity where distance becomes
torture or essence is incapable.
we try by breath
or we negotiate trauma where no one is alert. but Love is attuned or Love knows
receptivity as souls running into endless swamps. such swamp-weeds such
sky-oceans such earth-deserts—into hourglasses or opera-woes such an orchestra
to exist; or a soul seated in an arena so alone it feels natural. to enter by
accident to settle into routines while accused of giving up. to mean so much to
respond so little while nothing is quite fixed.
