The strength to withstand the winds; a spell as it effects/affects some creature. A sudden moment filled with absolute certainty, so wrong. How a mind tricks itself. Accused of being insensitive, too much to sustain. Lions in fields. Snakes in dungeons. Part mammal. Part reptile. So impossible. So probable in spirit. In priding detachment, one will lose something. In kneading nihilism, one will become saddened. In revering existentialism, one will notice nuances. So greatly confusing: to watch, to search, to be close enough to taste breath, so divided, a need to look inwardly. Some require tragedy, others need dialogue, and some dispute quietude. Loving her seems easy. She elicits admiration. And she prides relations. It becomes stringent; reality becomes fuzzy. We’ll see it in nerves. We’ll sense it in an undertone. An interior is whole at points, fragmented at seconds, holding to ethical conundrums. An author speaks from herself, neat abandonment, charged in an instance, repenting an infraction. The parts ache; keeping closure. Such precision the art in her essence; sheer magnitude; facing vicissitudes … a quiet person, a full person, a hidden inside person. To seem what is required; strength of falconry; eagle eyed. Filled with intuition. A soul marvels. If we knew depth, misunderstanding, clarity, confusion.
