If you would see me,

You'd notice me looking at you at any chance I get.

If you would hear me,

You'd notice me talking to you at any chance I get.

If you would smell me,

You'd notice me staying my best for you at any chance I get.

If you would feel me,

You'd notice me shaking over being with you at any chance I get.

If you would kiss me,

You'd notice that I'd been waiting to do this at every chance I get.

Do you hear it?
Do you hear it whistling in the wind,
Calling your name faintly,
And then building until its too loud to ignore.

Do you feel it?
Do you feel it prickling your skin,
Touching your softly,
And then burning until you cant take it no more.

Do you see it?
It is every where and nowhere,
Boundless like the wind,
Making rules as it goes so you can never win.

Do you taste that?
Do you taste its bitter remnants on your tongue,
It fills your veins stream and mixes with blood,
You know it better than you think.

Can you?
Can you decode that which is beyond you?
Can you outsmart that which is always ahead of you?
Can you accept it and let it control you?
Sorry the real question here is,
Will you?

Watch as the words are left to savor
Listen as the room mystifies
Smell as until it can be felt
Taste as it lingers in the silence
Feel as the aroma wafts around you.

A Ball of flame stuck above the spinning overpopulated ball of mineral.
Thanks.
This is a letter of appreciation to you.
To show the abilities you possess.
To your boring appearance.
To gas, from me or you.
To orbital seasons.

A letter of the heat you have allowed for my skin to absorb.
The heat that tells ice to run free.
The heat allowing the helpless to survive.
The heat giving power to a solar panel in a 3rd world country.
The heat taken for granted and cursed after a forest fire.
In denial that you are simply allowing a rebuilding of nations.

A letter created because of the light you provide my fingers.
Light that refuses close quarters with darkness.
Light providing rays of D to flow into happiness of flesh.
Light showing beauty on the faces of those on this bruised up earth.
Light giving life to all forms.

But,
What about that time you gave me false promises?? The sunrise dissipated by clouds and loneliness. Or how about when you burnt my skin. I remember that vividly. Lobstered up walking like a robot. I know the feeling because of the skin on my body told me so. I see straight through you, go pick on someone your own size. There's an entire universe out there waiting for your powerful engulf. ******* and up instead of down.

Or maybe you can turn off. We can pollute the ozone, block your outrageous rays, and slaughter the heat you produce. Then maybe we can live somewhere where feelings don't melt so easy.

"...Let the pines grow out of my skin.
     Winds howl in my mouth..."
     --James A. Ciletti.

Let the cylinders be there to connect the lonely,
grating bones, above the level of the rational
falls of water and the pictures, so inspired that
They like to appear on stage to whistle as vapors
rising through the spout.  The moon is smiling
down upon the frost of the equation.  Perhaps,
no animal has been hopping through pristine
squares of frozen falling, remembering
the singular match, the leaf leaving.

{ [ d _ ind del d j e ( m ) ] / ( d e ) } =
min y ( N , Z ) d t - C .

Coldness was like the presence and solutions
to incredible problems, growing worse, while
others, watching, stood, silently observant,
hoping to help, but the springs in the agreements
were the assistance for the splashing colors,
anticipated and arriving as a series of blades
removing lovely, warm weather.

When you listen for the silence,
and the only thing you hear,
is the voice of the abyss.