They flutter about in the deep dark night
sputtering on, with a bright firelight might
Butterfly sized, with wreathed shining crescents
The only word breathed is, "effervescence”

Their flowing glowing streaks against the dark stark black
While the old stale pale moon beams strong against my back
These little white spheres, of magical energy
lapse my mind of momentary memory
I cannot move, for my movements are crude
and the fear that they'll disappear, is suddenly cued
They are kind and wise, I find I have been mystified
sitting crystallized and innocently petrified

Fickle, free floating dancers, in my quaint little kitchen
Reveals peaceful little answers poured from false fiction

"Playful" I whisper from afar, that's what they are
The purest, clearest energy that's escaped the stars
They brazenly bounce and bob about
reflecting off of my glazen glass jars

Can I love them, without knowing, what or how?
Can I exist forever in this glowing, here and now?
What could they want? Where do they go?
Tantalizing taunts, I grow old in their glow.

scrolling or snoring
calls from men and divine i am ignoring
ponder on topics not so boring
trying time, double my dosage
ivory mind, cracked porcelain
back to scrolling then snoring
either wrapped up in work or my blanket
my daydreams like lightening
suddenly flash, reality i cannot grasp
then a voice follows mumbling crass
words, worlds, bridges, roads
open doors then immediately close
it is scary, it is a journey
that my soul has been yearning
discerning 3rd eye glowing

Lit by nature,
a flame of beauty

burning fiery
in her eyes.

Glowing like
the
mountains sunrise.
Soft,
and calm
like lilly of
the valley
beside spring.
Modeling silky
smile.
Making my bell 🛎 ring.
Rainbow 🌈 worship such allurment, can really
make carnivores
easily feed on grass.

Beautiful creature,
perfect nature.

We were in a painting, the two of us
She was holding my hand
In the soft glow of our own bodies
And the warmth of her palm
I felt it in my throat, and on my face

We were in a painting, you and me
And the way you lay in my arms
I felt, a stranger in my own home
Who are you, who are you?
In one strange city of love, I found you

before, questions lingered in the air.
weary eyed nights were spent
stuffing yourself into a small box
for someone who only took you
on long, winding, painful paths
where the ends were shrouded
by looming trees and bushes.

now, the air is blissfully clear.
someone smiles when you stretch.
they walk right alongside you.
there may be darkness along the way,
but they will hold your hand through it.
the end of this path is straight ahead -
bright, expansive, and fruitful.