Colour of a blue eyed newborn's
Iris sneaking itself through
Marshmellow clouds lined
With pink mother-of-pearl
And my admiration.
I want to touch everything.
I work with my hands.
I can build whatever you need,
And am the best tickler
South of the Arctic.
I want to put my fingers through
Anything beautiful I see.
Always looking;
Wanting to touch.
                              
That which begs to be touched
My mind caressing tree limbs
Breathing in celestial counterparts
To weave through this new configuration
Third eye open
Stumbled upon fathomless depths
Unknown
Wide brimmed, wide eyed
Don't sleep, don't sleep
So much yet to soak up
To taste


That which begs to be tasted.
Skin, warm with wanting,
Wet with relief and
Passing contentment.
Lips that uttered
Curses now kiss soft
Fingertips tracing
More love than
Love has ever had.
All is new
To the reborn.
Here are my hands.
They see through me,
Look into you, and rest
Upon the centre of your
Innermost centermost.
An umbilical between
Godess and
Man.
I smile mouthfulls
Of everything.


Hopeful, hope filled
The silver edge to this cloud
Dropping rainbow 3pm's to halo
Around my grinning skull
I am simple in my sobriety
Chrystal cut clear in winter yearning
Seeing the forest finally for the trees
These wonders reaching down out of the darkness
Shedding light on this pale, pale mourning
Nerve tips trace along your dips and curves
Memorizing
Mesmerized

And that baby-eye blue
Is now a full grown heaven
Full of sweet nothings
And nobodys,
Holding only such ideas as
Void and timelessness
In its handless hands.
I watch it with you; arm
Around your doll waist,
Shoulder against your
Head.
It's a new day.
A new, beautiful day.
A new, beautiful, hopeful
Day for us both.
Pots of gold on either end
Of this unimaginary
Rainbow.