I lack the words,
the syntax, to
Xerox my feels to you.

These caravan routes we walk,
in the shadows of our freight,
are just a path, a swath
of yesterdays and tomorrows
strung together by moments.

We carry these deeds,
these sins of deliverance,
to the next stop,
hawking the wares,
the smell of camels thick,
tasting the heat of the desert,
collecting its sand,
blinded by the sun,
but never by its promise.

Shielding our eyes, we
carry on in the dark,
seeking oasis, that
eventual moment in the
shade of the palms,
the emergence from the
cool waters, the
feeling of clean skin.

Aimed and shot at an ant;
But I hit and killed an elephant.

The curves of our flesh
also collide when pen or
brush touches paper.

Dragonfly wings glow
iridescent tones of blue--
she smiles below moon.

I once knew a girl called fly
A magical girl
One that could fly high,
Higher than the clouds,
Higher than the moon,
Higher than the planets,
Higher than the glazing sun,
Even higher than the highest things ,
Thoughts thoughts millions of them,
You'd be surprised to see all of them floating around you,
But when fly flew through the wondrous clouds,
Bunches of foamy fluffed shapes formed like candy floss,
Up until the highest thoughts,
From Tazmanian clouds to words on the page of a book,
fly died that day,
she never returned home,
her family was sick of worry,
years later her mother followed her little fly in death,
Her father and little brother Miikey, lived for a while but soon Miikey got stabbed with an axe by accident by an old man in the forrest chopping trees,
fly's father was the only one left, he soon died of old age at the age of 106,
soon enough people started to talk about fly's family,
thy said wow look at that kite fly,
fly was proud of that,
and now from this day people talk about fly,
some even say if you sit on the top of the highet hill in high vally on the night the moon is full and at i's highest point you may see a glimps of fly flying through the dead winter night  sky.