this deep devotion in abstract tends to break loose
reclining in air.
it may be even that the face is water
and the eyes, basins. should the heart endure dank
seasons, there will be new skin thereafter.
the favorable light sways outside the house,
stilled settings of rife adjustments, the objects are in
study: the fluent is stone. the trees automaton.
demand for sought after thrills, the plenary hall
of moon. wider than any light, drunkenly, frothing by
the gutter of this body.
sometimes when solemnity incises
there is image of death in mirrors. yours is diffident
surrender over the haze of hastily contending moments
and such truth is that the escape is yearned for
by a body – stiffening to become so rigorously false.
listening to the infinitesimal sound of body
take this music to the trees, their lignified arms akimbo
yellowing, grandiloquent from the seizure of old fevers,
the maddened, thorough tune mistakes your
anatomy as cartography. if your deepening, secret parts
are known, we will assume all conditions
and give variables for metaphors. Sometimes escape is coveted
by the body, its indistinct signs neglected as beacons,
there are other things happening, say, a hand meeting a face,
or the feet converging in trembling altitudes. A limit is set here.
Apr 3, 2016
Apr 3, 2016 at 7:38 AM UTC
this deep devotion in abstract tends to break loose
reclining in air.
it may be even that the face is water
and the eyes, basins. should the heart endure dank
seasons, there will be new skin thereafter.
the favorable light sways outside the house,
stilled settings of rife adjustments, the objects are in
study: the fluent is stone. the trees automaton.
demand for sought after thrills, the plenary hall
of moon. wider than any light, drunkenly, frothing by
the gutter of this body.
sometimes when solemnity incises
there is image of death in mirrors. yours is diffident
surrender over the haze of hastily contending moments
and such truth is that the escape is yearned for
by a body – stiffening to become so rigorously false.
listening to the infinitesimal sound of body
take this music to the trees, their lignified arms akimbo
yellowing, grandiloquent from the seizure of old fevers,
the maddened, thorough tune mistakes your
anatomy as cartography. if your deepening, secret parts
are known, we will assume all conditions
and give variables for metaphors. Sometimes escape is coveted
by the body, its indistinct signs neglected as beacons,
there are other things happening, say, a hand meeting a face,
or the feet converging in trembling altitudes. A limit is set here.
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