The waves of blood run over me,
Like water through my hair.
The crimson tide comes rushing in
But I do not feel fear.
For I am just a little cell,
Clinging to the walls.
Arteries, veins, and ventricles
**A ****** wave of awe.

I am but pacified in your presence;
Relieved by your absence;
Broken by your existence
and in awe at your soul.

I grew up traditional
Conservative Christian
The beauty of women
Was intellectually pounded into me
You are the pinnacle
Much of that made it to my heart
I sit in awe of your beauty
In contrast to that of a canyon
Or a snow-laden mountain

You are the living embodiment
Of the best all creation can produce







Unless you're a *****

There was a girl
Quiet like anyone else
As a young child
Her eyes always wide open
In wonder
She was excited for everything
If a flower had grown
It was a miracle
If she discovered a caterpillar
She was as ecstatic
As someone who had found
The cure for cancer
But as she grew
She did not
Lose her sense of wonder
Her eyes remained wide open
To the world around her
While her peers
Complained and mocked
She would celebrate
Every little thing
Any achievement
Anyone made
If she saw an amazing sunset
She would gush about it
For days on end
If she found a bird
Broken
She would strive
To fix it
And if it couldn't be fixed
She would give it
A funeral honouring its life
Her classmates turned on her
And ridiculed her
For her sense of awe
And though it hurt her deeply
She did not change
She did not hate them
As she was left alone
She simply smiled at them
Whenever they walked by
She made it out of high school
With her determination to
See the amazing in everyone
Or thing
As her only companion
She became a well known
Artist
And people talked of her
With admiration
For the way she could capture any moment
And make others she the beauty
In it
The girl kept her wide eyes
And her sense of wonder
Until the day she died

Pursue anxieties through the arches
Grand clothes, in all, proscenium
Marks the flesh of fiction of which
We wear in pride and tears, breaking
At whimsy the sacred real. Born in
That repetition, the rebel who rips
With rage and striking tongue solidity
All to null. We hold the soul of the earth
In balance just as we know every second
And intense authority, conscious of the body
To mold the putty of your lives.
Absurd boheme! But this magician
This contradiction with no delusion of self
As close as any man may get therefore
To perfection in our nihil.
Running, running all alongside
The misted face of high Olympus
And greatly gathering elements
And crafting, as any god to waltz
In history and awe, Absolute from
Absolute None.
Meet us when, meet us when
All the words like leaves do die
We’ll leave you with the seed of it
From drama comes drama
To drama it will go.

Eyes, orb as exploding stars,
Weighted light of hair rushing,
Held extremities, nimbus limbs,
Eons' spring, singularity crushing.