thoughts are billowy clouds of
sky blue mind
spots of cumulus and cirrus drifts
cast gentle shadow
my mind gets lost
in cloud-storm
pierced by your
radiant presence
sky blue mind returns
you are clear river
perfect mirror
reflecting my clouds
unto me
you turn my sky blue
again
you are the place
in my forest of dreams
where i rest my clouds

red, orange, yellow, falling.
trees erupt in vibrant pirouettes,
like a geisha dancing.
the great festival's opening ceremony
begins.
we worship the trees,
as they strip through the season.
as winter awakens,
i am reminded of my own vibrant colors.
how they will fall like the trees,
both of us lain bare in december.

our time:

sweet as ambrosia
fleeting as dew
my heart, the tongue
our end, mid-morning sun
my heart, victim of mind
chases mid-morning sun
never forgets the taste
of the fleeting dew

I have disabled myself,
Thinking about you.
Forty three self induced bruises
to the head, to the head
Forty five, forty six

I got that vibe,
That feeling from you.
I start my appointment
At eight thirty two,
Thirty three, thirty four.

Forty eight, forty nine.

It is not the cure
That will help this,
But only you.
Thirty five, thirty six.

Fifty two, fifty three.

So I try to get you
Out of my head...

Fifty two, fifty three.
So that I can be free.

I have disabled myself
Thinking about you,
But now that I am free,
I don't know what to do.

I feel comfort in the familiarity
Of being lost
Peculiar in its irony
Its definition reversed by my falling in love
With the freedom of not being found
Sometimes it's more peaceful
Living quietly without the sound
Of homesickness in your ear
Eyes wistfully on the clouds
Thoughts pondering in head
Soft promises vowed
To a place not seen again
It feels to me like exciting exploration
Sights locked in mind
All these complex illustrations
Of trees, streams, crumbling walls
That otherwise would of went unseen
All these beautiful kingdoms
Adorned by the falling leaves
Of this year's autumn
How could I not fall for that?