Thursday, November 5, 2020

The Fire Grove

 

trials or tribulation or triumph. near a curb sipping a funeral so abased inside. as never again where worlds flip as a casket might speak truths.

to fret over aloneness or pinched in flame where answers are legitimate but pain filtered.

such lovely apricots such ruined suede where it never flies; seasons or skies or tanks; such personalities such respect where we expect deference. swimming in sunshine or loaded in pictures to wonder about perception. so smart the sharpest knife while something is silenced—or given definition, while charm is scrutinized, or shame is necessary.

I want to see how love works. Does it mean delicate? Does it conquer each overcast?

to unveil veneer to vex personality to be too lonely; as fabric screams or innocence churns while addicted to purity. a man needing consumption or netlike guarantees over a cold beer. to imagine such devastation too much woman too strong for intimacy. such a damn mistake such a dear problem—on our way to Vegas! a soul in waiting a mind in patience—so much trespass.

upon rosettes upon fire traumas or a hospital door. such aeipathy those years such dead miracles where most have not a problem with it! so mad at this such diligence to assume a principle; the maxim bleeding it means to us what we deprive you of; at the winepress over a plum or raiding the refrigerator. 

I fawn often, seated in a basement, spinning a top.

to waver softly too calm to adventure or listening to consciousness. a mind tapped into a fret in waves while I sat down or looked closely; but a test but a challenge while I ask, Does it matter?

so headlong so impulsive such heart hearths. while wild as hibiscus or lethal as medicinal care—floating out of magazines looking like a fireplace so charged they need to cuff it.   

I’d Save The Reader Years

    The beat becomes sickness. A long crucible—a drilling ecstasy. I was losing focus, feeling forbidden, if to self, if to mirrors. So curs...