Trickling aquamarine
down the side of an
Oak tree leg
slumbering underneath
surfaces of crystallized air
pooled together in a silent conference of intention
that builds into a monsoon
quietly engulfing
the home of our feet.
The paths are imploding
faster than a now can extend
faster than the future rushes forth
with the force of a still 80 knots
Hands easily wind,
cutting through transparent
doors
on the way to
escalated intention
seeking a blanket principle
melting slowly under
pressure from the sun.
This is the rounded
found and in decline
rolling endlessly in water
to the beat of
hearts that pick up where one
died off and dissipated beneath
the undiscovered sea
hanging above our head precipices,
shadowed by the object
we must not see.
No comments:
Post a Comment