Adore The Wilderness

carpet made feelings; ceiling made replies; most complaints are unsaid. I was born to a woman, desperate at panic, made gold, part deceased—golden eyes, shapeless hostilities, fretting wreckage.

I ate something years back, mystic seagrass, mental sea-dust, rolling slower those waves—it was heavy normality, like emotions made gregarious, or egregious acts—where the whole sky must agree; if not, it shouldn’t be real, it shouldn’t happen, like a whole race in storage.

ebbing my debt, searching freedoms, muffling laughter.

it’s different in shadows, it’s esoteric at the fence, jousting, juggling, just jogged to the tribunal.

I touched the church window, stained-glass, I asked a favor; naturalized, faith became a religion, religion became a format, the format became existence. a true fan, keeping a distance, so knitted, at a lake with a raven—the signs the symbols, at every entrance, at every exit, many collect pegs of wisdom.

unzipped, the autopsy showed a ghost, the carcass is empty.

eat the shewbread, a raw day, a night the priests did right; the deaths the kef the breath!

most thought it was fiction, running like pagans, how did it happen?
searching poker faces, seeing emotion faces, feeling like making it better. a gift in science, reading gestures, some are under-evaluated.

I bought a guitar, about to make music, feeling too young to die—at health, at greed, at holy certainty—such a claim, too much to be ourselves, so much to adore the wilderness.