I could trace patterns in your skin,
erase it like sand and start drawing again.
My hands would never get tired,
they would chase the sun and moon away.
Caressing you to sleep is a productive use of time,
muscle-memory repeating the designs of infatuation.
Lulling you into dreams with my fingers,
then waking you when the light creeps up the sheets.
Fingertips replaced with lips,
space between bodies closing,
skin is so addictive, especially yours.

I consider minuscule matters in grandiose patterns that look like splatter
a splat of molecules and wit and love and precious oracles
and who is to make sense of the chaos in between these unseen things
but they rather sit and ponder these minuscule materials

silently, quietly, considering
gently plucking and picking the similarities
across the scenery of that in which makes no sense
inhale exhale
consider the mean
of meanings
and what it even seems

silently, quickly, mentally
snapping back and forth between reality and fantasy behind the mask
that protects me from you
and that and which over there
literally what this mask represents is all they try to expel you from

because the world is masked in frowns and desire
covering smiles and laughter that naturally breaks free from our skulls and lungs
but in this world we wear a mask to play hide and seek
the game we play so  hopelessly as children
and then so unconsciously as adults
whatever that is
the mask on the world only grows larger in strength
and its terrifying
human existence
and the unknowns
but that's the mask the terror and the horror
is painted on the mask
because human existence is nothing but beautiful
and im trying with every rhyme
and every winding turn in this compilation of the non existent
to show you and you and me too that the infinite beauty of this life
is indescribable
is unimaginable
is intangible
and this infinite beauty i call life
is you
in everything because nothing beneath this mask is not you
the mask that hides the earth
because you, infinite beauty and soul are the earth are the world

just trying to take each day
separately from the others
maybe then the similar moments
won't run together like muddy water
down the roadside of a week or two
and seep through into the grass
of culminating time and too much rain

trying to pick the hours apart
and keep the bits and pieces of patterns
away from each other
so they'll just stop dancing around me
for now
it's true that they somehow make me whole
but i've thrown logic aside for a little while
just wanna see how the other side lives, that's all
let me do this, i need to justify
myself

can i be justified?
turn me into a philosophical debate
and justify me, prove me as a theory
concrete as an idea
make me an argument, defeat what makes me wrong
teach me myself
and i promise i will learn, just please
make me right