God he
loves me he
loves me not.
Mock me gentle to the face – have me stand on the invasive, still numb
of shin and sole, having sold most of my assets to a power that controls
me all the more I tell it to, let it cast immersive shadow over something
I can do no turn against – softest to the rough I carry as I stare down a
comparative example of release, patient with the bulk of wonders that
addresses me completely, says I’m not to worry simple over tensions I
am symbol and of heightened likeness to; as I take back my discomfort
and allow the self this fluid – misrepresentation of.
ysomerkstave 