Violent Words for Beautiful People
ch. 3
*|MOVING PICTURES / ALL SO STILL|*
at first mind's eye polaroid you fragged me near trench sill dominating traffic / left airless / a shudder a childish man humble asunder on shaky knees / my mer de noms were so many until you caught my gaze and true focus of my winds was not necessary (you were sure to remind me of this as you stood tip toe on the tops of my kicks as you pressed your breath against the breadth of my lips) but I deemed a necessity / I deemed a single uplifting catastrophe reign to overturn inspire stars derail / enrapture comfort and confront me for bars last opus strange since four stanzas sounded clairvoyance in amongst the dark wood and brass / droplets sent crimson chaos theorying between the soft curls of hair / continuing the virtue / anti gravity hand held as analog poetry parted between the blades and dew brings coalescence reminiscent of new fronts approached strongly / the words ran like wine pooling imperfectly a cup astounds your navel jewelery and running... running... the many body parts yourboney hips could be construed as / canals / chunnels siphon the sweet between your whispers... quivering bottom lip whispers / sacred space silk folds and fragrant incenses / I dare not even speak for the next six and a half inches of sentence slips soft as farthest stars I know you keep deep / deep deep somewhere between flat stomach and the tail bones up turned cheek / when I touch you I smell you / when I hear you I taste you / when any single sense is engaged all of my senses experience with afractaling love that leaves me knowing what it is to be a part of the self similarity that I see all around me / to look into your eyes and know that we are the same thing / the same being / to know you know this also / I do not simply lose myself in your eyes / I lose everything in everything else / there is no vessel / there are noplaines no pains no vestiges to find round here / no trestles no dope no messages no hope no kinmanship no fear / no threads no kicks or caps no happenings not ever an "it is" never a single perhaps / no constraints no brains no blue skies no conflicts and no remains / to the best of me your windows are as a physical reminder that perfectly personifies what it is to find balance / I lose everything in everything else / and in doing so I gain what I can only iterate as infinity / the 40 in my bag that never empties / my body breaks down the alcohol immaculately in a last ditch attempt to penetrate the toned muscles thread by thread / a loss of definition all reasonable doubt removed within the space of parted lips and utterance met / what it is indictment? these parameters callvicinity no more accurately than a monk and his cloak equal obsidian deep connection / now ask me again and I will tell you what is intimate what is sacred I will tell you what is ZEN.
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