Pandemic Segue

perfume wafts the vestibule, occupied by watermelon cologne, such intrinsic senses grip for terror-domes; those rhapsodic cries, those palatial deaths, those shrinking instincts; as man fawning, it fears losing, to cygnet justice in a daughter’s reign; by inner mirrors, our polite fan, such stirring by furnace or grave; but mystic soup, our psychic intuitions, as fair to chaos such rosariums; if mimicked activity, those calibrated eyes, if but saber-tooth ages; our clinical history, our medicinal moments, or lithium such false clarity; our shy nakedness, our psychiatric travesties, or bipolar interference; at cleaner women, by investigative auguries, where perception bends humidity; if but to cry, those mandarin depressions, or magnolia elation.  

we palm marigolds, or begonias, or exotic souls; we dine with chalk, nibbling mental-matter, while engaged in exegeses; such hermeneutic digestion, or internalized suggestions, while one assumes pure individuality; to scribble napkins, another bite of asada, or a sip of cognac; by space eclipses, our social ticket, or this thought concerning Swans; our snuggled heart-shifts, those retrievals with crime, or days feeling pride about psychs.

moreover, a dream, to capture our inner wheels, while accustomed to aggrandizing immortal women.    

we ingest wrongness, our working jurisdiction, to honor at ethics; our moments at sky-gates, our delirium with sadness, our theaters with keen intrusions; as lost souls, while found near pits, our palms nailed by silence; to strum for reason, while offered discourses, where one suffers internationally; such gray-batter, or religiosity, by tender catastrophe; notwithstanding, our catnip brides, or souls to grunts typing tabloids: thereupon, a curse, our active addictions, by status, those realities, or switching by afflictions; to bondage normality, while hard-cursed to digest pain, where androids become confident; at absolute screams, at absolute personas, our courageous doctors.  

if but to dream, or but to live, our deeper inclinations.    

I sighted birds, weblike chirping beauties, to return by a  dreamscape; such welded metals, sensing what minds carry, or angered concerning tactics; at dear sacrifice, or mongoose strategies, a tear particle to thoughts; to utter a lullaby, or fang a flute, where agitation becomes its fence; murmuring sky-cranes, or anklet anchors, or aglet restriction; if but to breathe, our excited lives, where Love becomes her philosophy; such one-to-one correlation, such pudding for proofs, or substance as mystical—our butter with silk, our panorama insights, or torn desire becoming incredible galaxies—by red visions—into blue faces, our guts revved with appreciation.