She leaned over
her concrete canvas,
--The canvas
that wasn't
a canvas until
the smile
behind her smile
made it
So.
Ready for color-
She danced with
frozen rainbow
brushes
--Solid/liquid fun
that leapt
and pirouetted,
deliquescing in
her hands
. . . seemingly.
Made for making.
He watched her
steps, in their
-Beginninglessness;
projected-threw
newborn light of
old consciousness
in motion
Speaking.
Gestures of love-
Drawing together their
formlessly-aligned
intentions,
-His two left feet
tripping
over her lack
of back-
facing eyes,
that are
without
Purpose
when life is lived
by the living-
who do not try to
fold fate into
tiny
shapes
of
futility
--Other than
Themselves--
But prefer (rather)
to gambol with
existence
in the fleeting
endlessness
of
selfless
company.
Dec 15, 2014
Dec 15, 2014 at 7:26 PM UTC
She leaned over
her concrete canvas,
--The canvas
that wasn't
a canvas until
the smile
behind her smile
made it
So.
Ready for color-
She danced with
frozen rainbow
brushes
--Solid/liquid fun
that leapt
and pirouetted,
deliquescing in
her hands
. . . seemingly.
Made for making.
He watched her
steps, in their
-Beginninglessness;
projected-threw
newborn light of
old consciousness
in motion
Speaking.
Gestures of love-
Drawing together their
formlessly-aligned
intentions,
-His two left feet
tripping
over her lack
of back-
facing eyes,
that are
without
Purpose
when life is lived
by the living-
who do not try to
fold fate into
tiny
shapes
of
futility
--Other than
Themselves--
But prefer (rather)
to gambol with
existence
in the fleeting
endlessness
of
selfless
company.
