Let
us dance those wild waves, desert, earth, and damages; sunk in the middle,
pushing back, a giggle for fruits. Sure hurtful words, dedicated to a life of
rightness, most anything put on a back burner—darkened fleece, pads and
shoulders, furious flame and famine; so wrong on parts, certain to amuse
indelicate humors, wild feelings and parlance. A muse to souls, an unreal
creature, to have become doubt, damages, reality. So tentative, to imagine a
lecture, so unreal—it becomes demanding … so filthy, it appears brilliant …
certain effect, certain pilgrimage. Can’t speak the vision, nothing in life is
guaranteed, and we love on and by faith: a man and his vows, a woman and her
earnest, both to pass through time; moved to confess it, tender nonchalance,
affected and thus changed. Serious souls, banners upon clouds, empty beliefs …
a life of chance, superconsciousness, delights, so determined to have
happiness: an elusive creature, peeking and peaking and disappearing, left low,
such wonderful beauty, such vivacious skies.
