i am a monster in the shadow of sweetness
(images mutate easily under the amorphic light of hope, but all things synthesize, i know this to be true
(watched it happen) and took the mixed results as a sign)
now i am the one who brings home the weary, arms-full. and if things cannot easily change, i am the beacon of it; satellite-receiving reassurer; signaling grievance to my window for sport. but it is not my form that is tested, my body is flesh unto rubber back to dust: my mind is concrete, only tempted, and these sins are brought to a halt by your loving, loving vessel, loveless blight. but be a stone wall, be a giver, guiding light, be lots stronger, be much longer, longer steady, longer nice. change is endless and revolting; necessary and refined; i wish for it to come to me only at my own advice. hands unmarked. david, tall and pretty, cannot be: wouldn't want a stone wall, makes water out of me.
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