You are my surrender to night
the days last exhale,
That dances into dreams..

You are the arch of day,
the warm rays of morning
the delight of new light...

a forest breeze
between the trees,

the bloom of laughter.
the evaporation of thoughts.

a beckoning gate, of which I step through-

Into your peaceful
And gentle presence.

The first chore of consciousness is to
remember that it is darkness,
and that some of that darkness is bone.  
Its these molecules that grew tired from all the fuss of Gravity
and slowed,
and built a circular cathrdral and
from it cast long outreaches ******* more
but its not enough so there is skin, sailed between
and catching breath for the movement dreamed.

Terrible experience shocked them
Tesla expensive sport tire

Evil loves food