I was a revolutionary who never needed. Hostel
visions of anarchy in contradiction
cultivated and sunrises.
I was the intermediary
never said to tear down the walls of a utopia
strangely false. You
sense of what is timely, drawing
fleeting suffering in a book written between the lines of foreboding
and irresistible candor dissolved
your name in mud
not know passion when undefined. Incredulous
intuition you place a violet burning innocent
distant at the moment of exhalation.
We are looking
chewing soft petals and sharp flower
concern that offers quiet overwhelming taste
the sap imperfect
you in my life, I
and your vision.
0 comments:
Post a Comment