conditionally unconditional

Conditionally, “unconditional” comes with its vast conditions, don’t you agree? we invest our love, and all of ourselves into the adoration and dissection of all forms of muses, who will, or will not be found swimming amused in each others' minds, in each others' poetry; we are a muse ourselves, egregious to the rules of iambic and other rigid romping rhythms and rites to be righted, that we daily play dodgeball with ardently, it's like ducking from incoming magpies guarding their nests, circling their small-worldly boundaries, establishing their tiny very tight territories, they fly in at us hard with their sharp beaks and their spit, they assert they are allied with the best, those well informed highly schooled scribes, who largely mistaken in mind, dunk others less than less, and wait for the curs'ed to float, but in the sinking those curs'ed drowned muses, in that terrible horrendous misfortune, tied to their dunking chairs, eyes now wide open, find diamonds at the bottom of their damned pond, as they swiftly pass schools of wayward fish with no clear direction in mind, and other monsters pulling out hearts with their pre-prehistoric saber-toothed grins; hellelujah for those who bespoke for you freeverse from the ego within the heart - it’s the mind that cuts without hesitation, draws lines in the sand, limiting us to couplets in greeting cards sans ampersand, conditionally "unconditional"; the curs'ed eventually wake and they rise, spilling tea stirring sugar 'n spice into the bland, who eventually open their eyes and their minds, unconditionally “conditional” sans ampersand heart mind Candide Diderot. ‘24