rain falls on roof tops
acid desecrates energy in the air
rain falls onto us
sprinkling in your hair
we look perfect
skin soft
deflection corrupts meaning
but the acid obliterates any sign of fear
pain that we bear is nothing for vanity
gasping for a breath to see past depression
bear the burden of self awareness with me
move forward
lovely words to follow
we mean them dearly
insert our minds into perfect reality

the truest love: ask me about too perfect*

this I believe:

that part of we humans
that intersects emotion
& memory retains a video

not frequently reviewed,
placed deep in an unlocked,
unlabeled chest of drawer

surrounded by keepsakes, hidden
letters, scribbled napkins and
a less-than-handful of stills,
plain poems of raw delicacy

infrequent summoned, preceded
by a stray, strong thot asking
no one but you, why now? what
was the trigger synapse?

the love, the being, blessed, cursed,
known by its call letters:
TOO PERFECT…

Imagine the bird of time
the sun is on the fly
shining the quantum of time.

From the bottom
the Planck length in the east
flying round the clock to the west.

Half way through
it could be at the twilight
but it sings a swan song.
Nothing is a perfectly round stock
not even the sun’s clock.

Around the two fine points
in the circumference of a circle  
no length is a set fixed
minimal Planck length.
Always be an irrational gap
breeding anew pi decimals
never the same nor ever ends.
Always new, a little more,
an uncharted ****** mole!

I need that perfect kiss, the one you can't miss.
When you arrive, the first may be the best,
but when you leave, we need to make the perfect kiss.
For the rest of the night, when you're no longer in sight,
all we can feel and see, is the vision of our last kiss.
Hoping there will be more and this isn't our last, but it is the last until our first kiss comes again.
Because every day, when I' am with you, that first kiss, is a reminder that you're back to stay a while, until it becomes once again our last.
So lather me in your luscious love, with a sensation of wonderful vibrations.
We all keep trying for that perfect kiss, but will too never be perfect because a kiss never lasts when it becomes the last.
Love until you can't no more, keep it in your heart for forever and ever because love is what we need to keep ourselves free.

It’s on everyone's eyeline
the flying clouds spill the treasure sea
raining down on this perfectly placed mural.

The Queen of Sheba tiptoes on this way
King Solomon keeps an ear on the ground
only to find seas of silent blooms already
musing dipping in the sun kissed dews
on gently tilted roses that won’t drop down
not from this picture perfect navel-high!

Velvety rose up from the ground
forever green earth is hanging low
in the dew on the rose that won’t fall.
Blossoming, eying on a acute high
evermore hopeful to scale high aspiring
to the faraway awaiting heaven’s pool.
There the spotlight won’t move  
to the north or south nor up or down until
Queen Fathima the Queen of Heaven steps on
spot on on the ‘as above so below’ *****.

There the newly resurrected earth will be primed
its minted atom’s vibration will hit out of the park
for the first time rising atop the navel high.
Perfectly wrap atom’s circle finally turns on,
the stepping stone one that has no pi decimal hole.  
Pure scientia on the door of paradise shall hang on
lo the numerically perfect Queen Fathima to step on!

God willing she will work in beauty
the most sought after perfect works of art,
the lost masterpiece not in translation
but in the pi decimal hole in earthly deep
lo the gleaning sleeping beauty peeps
trailing the role model Queen.

Fathima the first woman entering paradise  
walks the walk perfect straight numerically precise.
Like she knew back from the earth
the murals ahead hanging on the paradise wall
mathematically exact!
Mirrors of imaginations anew wonders on heaven’s way
in the murals at the golden section on the navel high.

She zoom passes the ever spinning atom's perfect span
cemented tangent at the entrance of paradise.  
Yet leaves no foot print like she never did
on sublunary earth, new ponder in the old classic eyes,
oh pi still irrational, wonder in measured navel high!