vashti bunyan, i am rocked/
/fluting free to Her melody

You put the kiss in kismetly,
it is My reassurance of fate/
/destiny/She;loves always for
                                             Me,

arthur russell, falling in sea
soundscape//spacelike in 4D

I ask You,please,fall into Me
& pluck at my heart like a cello
Please,in C,fall into Love & Me

alive, that this hurt is good,
I am swept into waves of
cleansing, fragrant blood.

it is the nature of living
on the knife's always edge,
& it is here I mitose;
one life lived, one hedged.

I chase risk like hot foxes
might chase a chaste rabbit,
I dig my teeth into chance
like the germs who inhabit

not wounds, more incisions,
My purposeful reminders
that I am alive, hurt is good,
that I'll bleed until I find Her.

"no overthinking",what about
       understanding
the echoing pines of this hill
                             side landing?

We are a picnic,My Love,of
flowers&leaves,,    We taste
of green heaven   through
    tongues   &   teeth;

it is always You, though
       always the same
dream of Us,         in Love,      
         again & again

I am not overthinking,thinking
   of We,      I believe in
spring romance, in
              growing pinetrees

let us return to nature,    not
   think with Our head,  choose
Your heart,use Love,
come & lie      in the flowerbed

where You danced, it was
not on the     doorsteps
of this

            space
    
                        We occupy,
but on the lowhum,glowing
grass of somewhere far
  more real...

ethereal,the walls harp
in operatic glee,
                            the angels
walk like You & twirl
                     & twirl
                  & twirl
so they are dizzy with Love

& they fall, to line the floor
                          for You

,                 like a lantern;
She had no answer for
You.           I understand
the glowbugs & fireflies
,they fill the fields around
Your home,        but You
are crystal clear to Me.

My hands are cracked,dry
for a gift. hold Them & see
there is nothing beneath
Us at all.   there is no push
or permission to fall;
You step,              & hope,
             & I will be there,

swimming in the creek of
all We are yet to happen.
     I raised a Prayer,untied
& spoken,     to a balloon;
She will drift into power
lines,She will
             buckle your day.

(wood pigeon,cooing Me
  its therapy                      )

You are a little bow,tied
around My fingerstems.

You fit there well, You &
a loveline, straight to Me.