link stain 12

 

elusive and evasive, i want to crawl underneath the blanket of my pleaching unconsciousness. my harem boats and river tales are adrift. aloft on clouds of a powdery petal work. staining patterns of honey rings on blood velvet. exchange promises to the sub-terrain of promise and guilt and lust and resolve. a folding pitch of closure, enclosed within a year of days and seconds. parroted and cretinized. revised and rehearsed. broken into pieces of water crystals. when you say, in the year anew, there is a new resolve. you fool yourself. you imagine a transcendence of your identity without a transcendence. an illusion of time and a watercress dam. ringing bells and fractures of plangent celluloids. those ignitions of sprint, those sparkles of whim, those glints of the stochastic mutability of your evolving identity will remain the same. an excuse to revel, indeed. who need not exhilarate at the stroke of a dozen quarters, weeping behind the passage of mechanical flumes? in a transitional rhetoric, there is faith and confidence. there is dividend to the effort conscience preciousness of self-worth. the humanizing is a dainty awning of the mind parody. a synaptic chemistry of the dopamines, the catecholamines, the arduous pleats of time and effort and favoritism of the in-house. what is in this house of self-evolution is a remonstrance from the microcosm of the convention web-lock. the moment of a dozen is not your hour. your proceedings bleach every second of every minute of every milli-hour. for the pessimism of my self, it is not a gray muffle-band of an indigent whisperer. it is a retort to the entrepreneur. of catechism, lust and truth.

the monopoly of sentiments at the turn of a night. renew. rebuild. you say of the crass perspective of your immaturity. an inchoate framework. you look back at an empty trail. you want to build the brick continuum. a spectral fantasy of rainbows and the real. the tangible and the bizarre. you figurine of bronze -my honey ring. the interface of change is a linger.