In conversations, held, I
Pitch myself to death for
Escape of responsibility;
Duck from ‘mobile, lunge
For precious pain in fre-
Edom’s endorphins/laugh
Without sound, and pause
In flight. Returned to seat
By time’s greatest love,
Rationale, I breathe to forget.
Sometimes, when writing, you have to take into account multiple translations of your work so that no one can say, “well, they meant…”. That’s difficult, especially when trying to maintain a convention. For instance, using fre-edom instead of freed-om will highlight the red of death, while freed-om highlights the release of death, the ritual that death has become due to the human condition of grievance or commemoration or celebration– which are all the same, really. In the end, it’s what I want to portray. Om is pretentious, but will affect someone much differently than researching biblical regions, which can be… alienating. But, learning that what we know is translation and not historically actual (think of the word Dolphin later translated into Rulfine) makes sense for a word like, “freedom,” when describing death. Will anyone get that? No. But, it’s important.