We survive
In the war
Of our mind.

Smooth, the touch of a lovers hand upon your skin
which wakes a beating heart within
it stirs the sparks of bold desire
and fans the flames a little higher

Almost like a conversation,
trees come into leaf.
Last year gone, time to move on.
Time to tumble soft flower explosions
into imperatives driven by the wind
that approximates a song.
Let light fall in thick drops,
entering through perfumed windows
and silken doors, fragrant with love.
Let there be a daily siesta of green
solitudes, a sigh light as a feather,
stillness reovered. Let this season’s
world become a dream, a ceaseless
burgeoning of seraphic joy,
an elevation of oneness .

my friend,
when I'm with you
I remember who I am.

what is friendship
if not finding ourselves
together,

day after unsimple day,
untangling it all.