what’s the vision of the ‘Untitled’???
the moments wherein i try
my ambitions arrive to then cry
not meeting the standard that was once set
losing the battle in which i pondered / my bet
was proven lost / inside a net in which holy deposits have glossed! if only the seconds could be flossed with the minutes, hours, and glimpses of sand.
but that’s a back hand; thrown right before our eyes
as the oceans and seas surprise our unfolding sighs
The answer lies in a rhythmic approach; unbridled!
in our attempts to come back
the sloth festers into a steady slack
stripped away were the sustained promises made
freshly colored linen / stained by a sleeping bed
the sheets themselves spoke for the boxed frame
in response: the mattresses gave the pillows a new fitted name!
one in which dreams could bounce off the camisoles left over from tired undressing
much like if one was caught confessing by nap walking – as material theory // exposes blind sighted psychology by zoom invites suggested to make one weary!
If by focusing in from within the question is once again then, returned as a inquisitive friend:
What then is : the vision of the untitled ?
Again :The answer lies in a rhythmic approach; unbridled!