Saturday, March 5, 2011

I Distinct in Script


I, in this pit
lit this light,
find this ring in ring
victim in ill writing.
I fight this spirit
spindrift midst high hills.

~~

Its id instils
twisting criticism,
which mimics
wit sighing in rifts.
Still, I insist in this iris,
in I, with limits in signs
which inflict thirst
in sinking wills.

~~

In hindsight,
this fix is bright,
I sift within this sinking.
Bliss in kiss, might I,
with thin lips pin
if in is?

~~

I diminish in width.
I dismiss it,
stirring in nihilism,
firing blight within
this twin’s district.
Drink in this slick schism
its film distils his limit;
his thrill might finish;
his wit it might stir;
still inflicting this victim
with rigid might.



~~

Slight wrists in thin splits –
hindsight spills.
This spirit, high in his pitch
splits I in blight, I in this dividing rift,
I in script's this prism.

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