mumble among ourselves

hush sunflower confess one thing.  You are everywhere partial and entire.  Nothing moves no words appear.  Wake a short narrative the hunger which finds a way to deal with a recurring and unseemly position.  The first phrase corresponded with need to form condemned to depend on something other.  Love song poetics but what do most know of windblown curtains carefully deliberately and wholeheartedly stolen.  But to be left with names translated into screams someone else’s country but this landscape gaping with holes restless birds dislodged the body brims romance through repetitive action.  Unbound complete—each brushstroke speaks sweetly of home.

of all the forms it has taken interrogations consultations autobiographical narratives letters recorded transcribed assembled into dossiers published and commented on

I’m sure that love will be our revenge the summer evenings’ considerable importance.  Though we have only love of the sea in common swallowed in a moment we had hardly begun.  I think that in loving you I might leap over becalmed seas that will never be the subject of a thousand poems.  This current stitching together the disparate imprisoned in symmetry.  Bear down until it almost breaks.  We are constantly submerged in almost touching.  I am writing because it is raining the patient suffering of forgetting the sound of rippled pages suspicious of spontaneity in first person.  Any romantic notions one might have of the word diary depresses our resemblance.  Gush restricted smile.

the voice of Shakespeare

leaping like sparks from synapse to synapse the drama of the baffled embattled clasping it and yet thrusting it off realizing the thing the terrible thing sublimely catastrophic and expansive.  We are willing the sacred body of psyche and soul all but forgotten inwards then outwards reveling without a pulse.  Secrets collide and this is called desire beating us into synchronized surge.  It may be that the last scene is too violent if we really do love impersonating agony the most destructive bucked and spun into darkness.  The decision I should have made struggles and tightens the knot.  Madrigal song mercifully as quick as it was awkward I’m not going to do anything but tug and rip quicker.