thoughts crowd at the helm of y/our forehead -
we’re accustomed to this though, at this point...
At the bottom
of the button of a rose...
Your words,
when they came as whispers...
It plays me like an easy tune.
It breaks me down in structures of chords...
I lost the pen which had the ink with dreams
So I then searched for it within my hair...
Time is spiral though
without history it is...
Endorphins percolate through my nervous system.
Serotonin and adrenaline kickstart...
"What is that thing covering her face?"
"Why does she have that weird colored...
This won't be praising
the planet for existing...
Oh God!!!
I was stuck right in the dark...
Can I enrich the sun above,
flavor it with a taste of honey...
Meditation
On the way to love...