Violent Words for Beautiful People
ch. 4
*|INFERNO & THE MIST|*
there is something about the way I love you from a distance / the viscous resistance train tracks attack louder with ever step you take away from me / thickest from another’s mountain peaks out of focus pastel shades degrade massive cliff sides into whatever your subconscious provides / and on this soft morning (bird calls below you the sound of clouds scraping against and through one another above) that provision comes solemn as ape faces in the mist / drawn downwards towards the bottomed out trees like poachers exploding motion the slashing of forests beauty mark blemished empty spaces replaced them with cages old age passed by in solitude and lonely / a vantage point graceless even in the presence likened intelligence fortuitous / so tell me what is relative / the shrewdness of apes rejected the answers slingshot around the planet / the thick creases in their palms told them better choir songs were the ones written by deaf Africans in the after glow of the house fire / bare foot tired / a single dread lock perhaps one of them named it panic / if only the elders had any parables formed from derivatives of what we high rise grown see when the signal falls dead / when the equator experiences frost bites and snow storms we experience the static / it is only in the metro I find my partnership with you pragmatic / without the webs of spinal steel jungle and concrete encapsulate light dodged as to remind and not forget / our solitude is done for / clearly as the enigma's wet hard hand has practiced
No comments:
Post a Comment