an opus kiss can
devastate a soul. zeal for the well-beloved—a captive heart—as loving is like
dying. the neb protrudes, it’s nosy, it’s curious. such ontic fever, as polite
rain, our pluvial dynasty. with presence glowing wildly, with want for essence,
so consumed by one person. many epic tales about epic women, it was nice to
meet one. such epoch pain, found in chains, made socially abstract. to have
died in you, to have come to life in you, it’s hard to tell fibs. upon nautic
wings, during nautic storms, an albatross has appeared. we see it as spirit, we
kill it, we need goodness to occur. meantime, dear deaths, dear passion, dearer
intervention. filled with fog, passing over ship, most dreams are forgotten.
the grip of death, its grimness, such reach in war.
an opus kiss can
destroy friendship.
light moonshine,
lighter harm-castles, at warmth made into sensories. by doorsills listening to
birdsongs, it’s amazing how we never know—the toll of the troll, the one
getting away, the conundrum proving life as absurd. on opus kiss, one
irrefutable reaction, one deeper fire.
