Posted: Wednesday, March 25, 2009 | |


I am bent to reside with my own selections-
and here we are. Here;
there is no room for blindness or non-combat,
giving into a gentleness
there is only the conquest of a day, units, explicit spates
there is only (for choice)
clarion battle call, at war, at war

When quiet planked distance lent me it's non-advice,
and I surrendered to conversation
what do you realize? do you realize?
and as a spoiled, bruised fruit I fell into ground
giving into a safe decay
safe, soft, full of skin

stretched past capacity, unable to bear
at war, at war
with more than you:I
but with the sleepy female I.D and its complimentary body response,
the organic habit
surrender-burn desire
This is what I revoke when I raise rigid
Tremendous! in culpability, responsibility
and I allow lobe-divide, and negate spaces-inbetween

I am going to show you something.
very ugly, with the prudence afforded to:
an answer to sincerity theft
In violence ripped above human love domains
no romance but red red roped
everything, anything, is sour in motion

I think of betrayal and the possibility of betrayal
and consequence,
(shut your mouth girl, giving away too much, always just giving and you're a skip away from empty)
too much,
I cannot refuse thinking again but in a war?

angles always look different through a lookout window,
the semantics of measurement for give/take
semantics of
war for movements sake, to turn time
as a tinker wind-up crank as to avoid a another stalemate

above all else; war is capable of stagnation-avoidance
so that we can move along, you & I
we make war in and out of bedsheet territories


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