I love this time of year
seducing the nights of November
faintly hearing my past self praying to my present
most of my skin bare, colliding with the falls frosty air
I can see the stars but feel the effortless boundaries of gravity
pounding
yet its somewhat comforting knowing I am contained

I become more human than spirit
with senses intact
and in truth, it feels good, feels present
to have the soul and mind separated

my human wrappings can still inhale the world and feel the touch of the dead
but it suppresses eternity
suffocates the inner philosopher that analyzes everything as more than known..seen

it hears the time ticking, senses the warmth of the clocks arms
feels the weight of the choices

In my present self, in my flesh, my skin
I can feel the beautiful ecstasy

of simply

sitting on my rooftop

and drinking white wine.