Bad Body
The heavy gallop of a strong animal however fluid is always muscled slow. I admire them those whose insides and outsides correspond seemingly seamlessly the costumes of aura. I feel captured by the need for your attention and you yourself are free. You move around decide for yourself walk through the trap lines of my covetousness as if they are finish-line streamers. In every photo of us you are flirting with the camera and I am watching you. I work on my love for you when we are separated. Something in me turns to pay attention. We writhe try to make it more than percussive instinct. Because it requires a partner we turn it into compliance or collaboration. I try so hard to prove our exchange doesn’t create a loss of value a deduction from the wealth of self. I can’t rest can’t understand. If everything knowable is the product of every ensuing moment then I willingly participate pile up responsibilities. I come to know someone then one day I see them behave as a stranger. The world is always turning unreal I feel turning unreal. I wish I could hear you think my name. Revelations being disproved by revelations stacks of once-useful truths. I emit to you from the past. You like fantasies where you go back and change me where we collaborate in a staggered sequence. I create my own superstitions. I receive again and again the ruse that struggle for unity. I don’t make a pact summons or prayer. I just have this text to call you an eventual pile of dust that I’ve imbued with my satisfaction. You are the love of my desire the fuck the attention the dream the unequaled. You want me so much that you shock me.
Perpetual Stew
Foolish girl pushed around. It’s all symbolic but the symbols are improper. Systems are largely true they say and I think of a dump truck disgorging a hill of tiny gravel. Captivity — thinking without purpose. The language of knowledge masks itself as newly-discovered only for the fit initiates. Dear culture the study of you is exhausting. Out of this object a chain-reaction simulation being ourselves seeming to each other. She was an overflow body dropping down as a pile of pebbles slow bell’s dangle muted by fog a bush of birds gone silent from a diving hawk. She was disallowed from speaking so listened and listened until all she could hear was the unfading movements of a monumental sum a life-giving brine full of decay suspension of totality. The whole is always harmonious whether growing or dying. But is it just? You who I’ve loved you can always resist the temptation of looking back. And me I’ve never been hard to get have walked immediately toward every debatable bid for me. I’ve been trailing behind you’re all I see when I look.
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