[Fig]

Quick question:
Is this just a right feeling, trite string of affections?
Or does the sun break horizon, with a bleeding intention..







...




My chest, rises and rests in mechanical reps.
It's all wiring and fire.. this flesh.
Breaths weave in a spiraling spire from which the mind must profess
the souls scriptured streams of light

until death.

(Eclectic types. Blended iridescence unveils guests.
The crimson bleed of life reminds our kind why we're still left.)

(Conceal! Guess! We're tuned into two different frequencies!
Just pop the dial knob off)

(then quickly strip the machinery.)

(The whole picture)(seems to beat me with its scenery)
(I'm teetering between)(the sweet dream)(and my reasoning)
(But bear with me in my endeavor;) (relay teachings)
(that) (were) (shared) (with) (me) (within) (a) (tremor,) (((((released seamlessly.

My heart beats beacon beams that attracted the art of sequencing

these hard speaking things, breeding in sparks/fecund sprees.

Whatever way you choose to see is cool with me.

I used to think

that every person realized they spoke in viewpoint eulogies.

Fueled conceit consumes the scope of differing views

Whether ego romantic bliss, or deep semantical loom.

But the yarn I spin is true to the moment I caught...

We machines in the outfield, looking open for shots.

Is it hopeless or not