Relief

The fear, the brush strokes of Carmel on my face and spine.  The doings of a Corporation on my sight and being.  There is no success in this moment.  I sit as slave and see no means to free even my toes.  It is one after the other.  I must feal the paranoia of nations.   I see a fearful stance and absolve it to not birth that emotion into the world.  Those who claim lack of understanding and vicious and cruel torturers.  They will hang from the gallows of public opinion soon enough.  White women need to be suquestered with white women AWAY from me.  I have been their possession for far too long.  No kneeling will create an observance of a clean soul in view.  Pounding upon me is also the invisible of Latino.  I urge that zone to be clean in their own placing of Mexico City.  Sin is every beating heart around me for this aching 42 years.  I try to describe thus to not feel rage in this time and space.  I am trying to wake the dead so that we can just have humor to all who are here and there pushing back my tiger entrance.  I will have victory, but I need my Hephestes.  I don't feel so Aphrodite, but maybe it is the opposite, in form, that is goddess of beauty to this underworld warrior.  When I go, your hearts of stone will be vicious again and again.  We will sleep without sin in vicinity.  He will hang me to free my spine.  He will tie me to stop the seizing.  Lots of mortality will be found in our vicinity, but not for us.  We will be read as dead and working at the same time.  No more cracking of my skull, no more bleeding brain and grey matter strain.  I will jump into the River Styx with thoughts of Muncie.  The deathy Wolf Dog on the thick chain will swim and lick me again and again.  Water will be clean serene from Water Tower of Carmel, IN.  Fill a chalice and let's commit to a skeme of loving it against the grain.