dying
isn’t an option as much a predeterminant exit—sudden tissue, sweet hearts,
frequencies between the well-beloved—as fashioned a sword, tender loquats,
musicality, I pass over.
loving
you was easy—big brown eyes, trying at perfection, if flute than piccolo.
arranged by you, a ritual in you, walking, talking, balking with you. like
animals the love we share, so discreet, so indifferent. too wild for milder
souls, too fixated for the anxiety, such pagans are seen differently.
I
would love suddenly, mania, its tug, so treasured, most need it forever.
I
need a Rock, steady swaying, upon ocean elephants; I need silence, so vocal, I hear
you; I need a Bulwark, as a crazy woman, so sane when I appear—that other individual,
as he composes, bled of emotion.
if
crazed, speak as a child—if present, please don’t disrespect me.
we’ve
animosity, I would like to share, I’ve found a cool space to live in; sure
rumbling to incur you, sure deaths to enter you, so sweet, certain odors, while
wild with an aphrodisiac.
I
came begging—most knew me losing, most had no need for me; I died in cuffs, I appraised
in arrogance, I made nice in empathies; most pained to die, to leave my Love,
while pondering another’s aura—confused at times, a hypocrite at times, it pays
never to push the line.
unless
serious, well thought in graves, so lonely the man speaking of morals.
