I have a hard time hearing the minutia
where some claim hardships, while
nonetheless, having harmony,
riches;
intrusive agonies, like a certain
style
becoming a winner, to make a debut
at a given hour, like it has never
been
done; fire in waves, graves haunted
purple roses, crimes wrapped in sin
the main event, our bodies entwined
while we have no respect for
anguish
no cares for trifling anxieties,
much
trash in design, soul time varnish.
if to ask for love, sentiment, arc,
lies,
in towns, cities, harboring sex
cries.
