the apologist

this scenario:
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you know the one.

hammock.
i’d like a few of us cocooned in a net
scooped up in wispy cloud  reverb
trailing through else-ish  skyisms
other, where, simple hush-ture
sun slips through evergreen
and grateful pupils suck
growing later, sadly
in shadow overts

you can see heat
simmering a film
over this side
of windows

…and with a finger
a story is told, revealed
when astute makes her way

again,
stripes through a country fence
golding the ink of dead trees
dancing on splotchy snow
as birds dip, delve
in fathomless
no deathly

for granted took
our singed wings
die everything
we ever touch

losing a friend
i see her delusive
place her in the zone
of where i don’t think

between the lines, he says
we need you right in the middle
nowhere, he says, but doesn’t… say

i don’t either

is talent simply patience?

searing pain is his brow
the halo of addicted angels
solace seeks serenity cranial
and sometimes self seals softly
in memories, your horror, or not

he knows
has no idea
that he does

scrubby patches of past
and the ling of darl
smallest a cute
to precious

writing letters over and over
writing more letters to apologize for
the other letters that were sent too soon
regretting that… too

the distance between
everything in-between
is measured in slumbers
scientists hide in pillows

wait for it, put it off
don’t let it release
the joy of sadness
and successful
lies
backful
star-gazing
never what you
think i meant

relish is mystery
frozen in secrets
he knows, but
cannot ever
realize

there is no consciousness

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