Wednesday, January 19, 2022

Walls Would Come Down At Points

 

seasons. inner wealth. mental politics. life might be a mirage. 

castled hopes, rippling screams, visions altering passions: the soul running to itself. 

well-walled chameleon, Indie raptures, Dalai Lama duties. an Asian dahlia. 

souls relating, energies dispersing, and passive receptivity. 

panda eyes, vegan diets, ink-Indian tears.  

afire as flamed, as gone, as livid, as in love. our yogic brains, our yogic inconsistencies, so powerful, so distant, so mean, unless! souls partial to powers; to imagine decades, flung into battles, as realizing phantoms.

diamonds. shells. internal, tinkering monsters, extraordinary aesthetics.

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...