(no subject)
wait for something worthwhile. here comes something better. binge, chain. my fickle friend. a conversation with myself on the back porch. i kiss your forehead. this is goodnight. up and gone at dawn. back around by twilight. our eyes locked, docked, turning right to left like kaleidoscope glass. we're in a spring meadow. waking to the reassuring song of a mourning dove. sleep with windows open. figuratively immune. they dont write scripts like this anymore. enduring temptation, eight ribs deep in warm water, like a flooded prison cell of some place called unconditional. or, unconventional. whisper and a touch, falling asleep at this volume. hair like the darkest char. heart like a cinder. speak only in that wonderful scent. body language. stay hush. its only me, and the leaves of trees. summer gold in the grass, off the beaten path, and only one way up this climb. impressive. astonished . disarmed. its saturday morning, its 6am. mind of a 5 year old. september makes 6. minutes pass. the mountains, sunrise blue and gold and thick. clear and copper, barrel aged sugar cane stalks. two large cubes, ceramic and smooth. smoke dancing through a thicket. such crisp, deafening silence. watching it all pass by so leisurely, the speed of light through frozen water. and, we are doing so, so very fine.