not just delighted, entertained, endlessly curious, sufficiently bewildered and longing to climb inside the gears tick-tocking your mind
but that your brain takes me into a state of utter awe blissing me still
it's looking into this distorted hologram mirror where I'm seeing more of me, but from different perspectives than the usual 2D similar to me, yet, inversely intriguing
it's live and undulate reflective truth serum rooting me in now
that's why I slid right down your throat - I speak your language and apparently intuitively know how to crack you allkindsa open
(even if it takes a white-hot light year and unprecedented doses)
it's like with you I'm the me-est me I can be it's so
magically delicious I don't try to escape inside me anywhere
you make me want to be more here with you
on the outside
share all the parts I learned it best to hide on the in
though I know it's a wee bit ******, if these treatises become merely the sheer prologue to The Most Unbelievable Tale of Mystical Love Perhaps Ever Spun
the fact that seeing you is seeing me means
loving you is loving me too
this could be - so - healthy
like shots of marine phytoplankton chased with green smoothie
and my ponderings keep meandering around this one thing:
what happens when it gets to the point where your pictures painted of me completely override my false stories
- forevermore -
when I eat so much of the mirror I become - fully - the me I see through your Windexed eyes
I daresay thatβs levitating off the porch of full potential outside our diamond-cut pyramid with the gold-engraved signage hanging in front of our intergalactic portal