Subliminal Fascism

Suppression of a thought, a feeling, a need to communicate. Where do these feelings and thoughts go, I must wonder, when murdered? Is there a special place in the atmosphere, that enables these entities to mutate and exist on another plane, another level, another form?

How many of your holes may I have? A way in your mind is all I need. A seedling of thought to transfer an idea from you to me and me to you. Will you give me some of your precious attention. My imagination gives life to the ethereal qualities that you embody. Can we fly away?

A butterfly is what you are if I am merely a rose petal in its spring.

Will there be more of this and that for you and me? Or do I live by how it seems? Will my mind betray your minds intentions to deliriums lament? Unspoken needs, are needs that go unmet.

To drink an ocean or devour the beasts would not serve to pacify the beauty captured in my inner minds eye. Where you exist so righteously.

Would you define freedom for me. Just once.

If image is beauties delusion, what then is its platform. Kleidescopes of the mind reveal all of the pieces the image fosters; so that then I may become lost again in the wild terrain that is you? Under better pretenses than before. Insatiable is the feeling when satisfaction is out of reach.

The sound ahhh the sound of the rush of emotion in my body..perhaps better left unsaid and forced out through the fantastic display of color and clamor of life outside of me...

To let it make sense..to relax in completed effort. To romance life beyond the struggle of living.

Yes that must be what it is. That must be what it is..