Saturday, March 6, 2021

Follicles And Scalps

 

I was unpraised as in forgotten where loving felt unusual. those new feelings, how a woman unlocks us, while I sound a bit sentimental. upon a seesaw as laughing with glee something simple with a loved friend. we flit or fly we die or resurrect we feel quite political. to judge specialties or to prefer a certain touch where it has become mental cravings. too infused to doubt faith too religious to doubt Jesus or too academic to claim Jesus. our pivotal collapse our serenity music at some distant memories. such static arithmetic it was once geometry, I suppose we fell into comforts. indeed, a newer soul, prior to bringing it back, it’s easier to chase rainbows. such a familiar exit, while headed home, for love always returns. to imagine set marriages, as families combine, we tend to put it to dynamite.

            a fair disbelief an entitled disposition while I take life for granted. it helps to earn it, to struggle a bit, while it might be elsewhere. many ripples, so fresh from a liaison, while never a second to heal. so ideal some pain some need for another to fix it. an ambitious soul, many predicaments, if to admit it, such-and-such is a disaster. some project a bit of bolt-work, while most feel unscrewed. to have died in us or children we adore or frames capturing moments.

            I drift gently, coming to a cliff, it was sudden into my existential. love in exchange for deaths – the dynamic isn’t hard to discern.

            such economic concerns, plus, friends must love me, it seems so intense – the way it depends on others, while claiming independence, so estranged from our inner voice. such interior damage such outward control, we might die before disobeying.

            so sweet to non-attachments, so rigorous with homebase, so clockwise with doubts.

            treasured aurora so juvenescent by tender noor. such ourbat (closeness), certain wabi-sabi (imperfection), while claiming completed sciences; true friendship as in an ideal while winds waft into images: dusty whirlpools or a quickness to heart, upon a flower losing petals.

            so much an engrossing poem, upon a ghetto night, where lovers feel agitated.       

I’d Save The Reader Years

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