Suppressed recollections
play upon the strings of my impressions,
that are fractured confirmations
of where my mind is flowing,
                             upwards
to the vault of all my beginnings.

There is a stalk that wonders aimlessly
within the crevasses of all that flows,
sustaining on the occasions that were
never meant to be its leaves deprived
of all worthwhile emotions.

Separate from what weaves above,
a solitary refection whispers against
the tide of the beginnings, floating with
the progressive clear thought.

Visages woven upon the symphony of
weaving  features.
Upon the chimes
           her vocalization does intoxicate
those that are within heeding
                         of her delicate memories.

          These are stairs to emotions now realised.
Acoustic melodies slip through currents of air so soothingly..

Waiting on the verge of something
                     that has been a test of time..


The closer,
               the longer,
                             it seems to stretch waiting.......

We fear to let eyes wonder,
even though the heart is woven upon our chest.

                            Their eyes only see us,

they just take in the surroundings,
                                    where there thoughts are only of us...

For a touch woven in a beat
                    can speak...
more than a volume of words without
            a single syllable
                                        been versed in exhales...

All the moments that were versed like stitching
upon our existence halted when you were
silenced in verse from the form of my sight.

But love maybe fickle, but friendship is one
that guides us past the sadness of life's swaying
road trips. We may stop for a moment but life cares on.  

Even though I stand over you eclipsed in stillness I
throw a rose on you now vacant thoughts. I remember
you as a star, I cant see you but I know you shine brightly.

People can veer our emotions
             from the depths of what was a sinking ship.

We sail upon their winds of kindness,

But even though we are on a lifeboat of love

                                             We still drown without tasting water.......

Something even though we try to evaporate,
                    We linger in the air....
Even though not solid,
            the vapours we still inhale without consequences....

My well of thoughts have dissipated,
beneath the murky waters
                                    lie
                      slumber
         secrete
the afterimages of what had evaporated.
repetition now swims in the vapour
of reflection.
     Duplicated
                           Reproduced
                                                    Imitations
of a droplets that seem to be deja-vu on the
surrounds of my reflections that are evaporating.

Savour the taste of the ink,
                                        and like wine..

let it breath on your thoughts....