cry mixture of its
pendulum its caffein—the dialogue as it aches while two are fraught by fears; a
knotted puppet a tyrannical puppeteer while exhausted from love-jones. such a
padlock for me so open for a mad musician so many karma schisms—but over those
draperies into a cave Love is noble violins—sure into science such raw material
if but climbing like cleaving. those scarlet fingers those ruby palms such
lapping or fawning—to sip roses to drink begonias while sipping apricot vodka.
Love sits in mind-dens those lions are cordial those bats are taking notes. so
much murk or marsh or a dozen dungeons—the man with eight eyes the woman with
four characters or the haven so much a ghost disappearing. the last feat the
feral fey as souls adore while looking for a perfected angelica giant—by puzzle
to die by tetras to awaken if but so soft a nature a lost orgasm. to siphon a
saxophone to ring as elevated into a coma to have her occipital essence. those
frowns as a man cringes those lakes as a man is dry or the challenge to satiate
a woman on her last memory. the plaza mural the unveiling where Love delights
in a harmonica. so favored at a point so restricted at a mountain while eating
green eggs with ham.
I knew she was noble so much credence while things
were complicated. she made a mistake a true ethicist a bit confounded by
measures; the scale crooked the intent with integrity while a man must forgive
until facts state otherwise. but over the hill so many incenses so many candles
a pious art for sexual encounter. by souvenir in a body by lack of control with
hearts filled by confetti. like a stowaway from a person’s mirror those faraway
wolves the bleeding skies those russet trees those molasse pics—as caved in or
dinning in sin where Love is too damn gorgeous. by kilowatts by cheating souls
where it could of went smoothly—as unorthodoxy as something in California while
many a soul remain un-adored. such toil in winter such pain in autumn such fret
in summer a man to his liabilities. to sit with Confessions, to
un-laugh, while feeling nebulous—so imprecise such a casualty so cacophonous—those
bells ringing the knell calling those orchestras in our living morals. too bold
to have her too cold to warm her while certain indiscretions sound/scissor as
deliberate with deep realization.
