over a wheat bagel,
saturated with invisibility, i looked at it, and tossed it in the trash bin.
some phobia arose, a notion of self, i kissed an image of pain. near a bathhouse, scrubbing frantically,
uncleansed, thus, filthy. too obsessed to love you. terrified to lose you.
speaking on one in my imagination.
burning hardwood, so smoky, by charcoal in waves, wafting towards freedom;
the slavery of freedom, we must think; the freedom of slavery, everything is
thought out. what is preferred, isn’t
what is desired; what is desired, isn’t what is preferred. at
the hill sat a rickshaw, it was unoccupied, a little boy took it out of
innocence, just being playful, he would never make a mistake again—he is now ruthless. a man watched the freedoms of another man.
he was disgusted. he never desired to remain silent. so rich in poison. such to nauseate
invisibility. the winds are vomiting.
a chafe mind, a forked tongue, wondering why life has turned corners. justice is a delicate notion. it appeases
its definition. with souls debating unto troubles and pains. your signature is more than enough; it
serves as an insignia, it lives with innocence; unless buckets aren’t snakes, it’s
deliberate, and mind chemistry is concealed.
