Groundless spires
Of tremendous yearning
Turning inside out
Rolling around
On groundless foliage
We are nearsighted
A shirtless spectacle
These shadows are introverted
One word, one sentence
Is all you need
When the action is imminent
It is fiery indeed
Retired captains
And airline stewardesses
Diners and laundromats
Incense and artifacts
Green or orange socks
We match our articles
And sever particles from our souls
These overgrown undulations
Are apparently eager to be known