Exquisite perihelion
foreshadowing the perfect arrangement
for my destiny
Those thoughts float and travel inside your chameleon mind complexly raveled
quiet hideout under gravel
soil so fertile in blooming mind a reborn human reigning for life.
No foreign content to seek
as your mind wanders deep
along beaches gold when lit no worthier task is equivalent to me
or in your kitchen
in summer morning with windows opened
accessed the sublime state of gazing mind forward into skies of vermillion
smell of cinnamon.

To leave no flaring questions unanswered yet spoken
in ordinarity the word power is hidden
enveloped and
with a red stamp attached

With a good reason stated
confirmed but not openly expressed therefore expected
to be publicly inverted
two miles deeper than silence like dust that has gathered
on chandeliers
true gold and crystals of
Some unknown matter
resistant to shatter
Condensed like gravel
And raveled
like an oddly minded chameleon
Lifelong goal
To answer questions
smell of cinnamon.