everything is anything.
morphing, moving, & merging together.
falling deep into flow.
deep into know.
breathing & bleeding energies & essences,
from every spectrum of the rainbow.
discovering & diving into new, unexplainable realms of creation.
so much to think about.
so much to feel for.
it's easy to get swept up in the magic.
I want you to put me on your tongue and let me dissolve into you like the tiny white squares that turn those glossy hazel marbles into black holes and intense stares. I want you to kiss me and see negative colored rulers in the corner of your vision and I want you to have trouble making a decision between kissing me and observing me while I'm sitting on your chest and I want you to laugh like you did with your cherry colored lip curled over your childish grin over and over and over again and I want you to forget the conversation topic every time you close your eyes because the world inside of your mind is filled with blinking images that you can't quite explain aloud so you settle for little talks about Rosa Parks and Indian style kisses and how the ocean is the Earth's thing or the complexity of butterfly brains and whether or not they remember their caterpillar memories (they do). Describe to me the first time you saw your favorite color and what developed the affinity for it: yours, a glacier blue toy that resembled the ocean and mine, a lavender Easter dress that twirled when I spun. Tell me about your school crushes when you were four and what you got your clothespin moved to the sad face for and I'll write it all in ink on my knee caps because "God, we're such writers" and you'll check the clock in the gaps and search for tunes or lighters and I'll want time to slow down because the nights spent with you usually seem as though minutes are just a few seconds shy of sixty, which turns the little hand pretty quickly.
I want hours, weeks, decades, to analyze the freckles on your face or the pace at which you move your tongue and precisely how it tastes.
I want you to tell me that your brother would like me and about the mountains in Tennessee and maybe next time I'll try to stay awake, unless you want to listen to the way I breathe so fully when I dream.
When I close my eyes, I want to be able to see what you see.
I want you to keep burying the numb parts of you into the warm parts of me.
The lower back arches
Muscles tangle in with the spine
And intertwining curvature sneaks between vertebras
Creating a vineyard of sweet spirits
That I could drink from the palms of your hands
As though the gentle and rough intentions
Had forever been engraved in a fate
That the universe hadn’t even planned for it
Otherwise the circumstances wouldn’t have been
And so foolish, I looked onward to the lit pavement
Walking between the crowd in hopes that
The grasping of my soul would stop from being tortured
In ways so tender that I wish I could expand in to the millions of atoms I am
Your skin felt like a warm liquid
That washed over your bones structure
Your eyes, those brown eyes
That looked at me with a shine that
I wasn’t sure if everyone else could see
And the light freckles and tinges of skin tone
Pixelated the platform of your body
And I, could look at you forever
Without even thinking twice about tomorrow
people always ask me
about my best trip
and expect me to tell them all of these deep
about how my life will never be the same
and all i can really say is that
lsd is more of a way to forget about life
and focus on now
focus on nothing but being alive
i mean being
there is no secret
nothing to be revealed
you know everything already
Shankar smiled as the waves crashed
To the drop of the bass we were
Alive and breathing subconsciously
Losing all air to the cry of peculiar felines
And there existed a flittering longing
Once common perception returned.
My hair was threaded gold
Beneath your fingertips.
I had a big stage.
Set to the grizzly backdrop of rural Stephen King.
Posts for streets and persecution for people.
But I've seen the suns light bend to the curvature
of the sky's massive hands.
And share the illumination like they were
gifts from no one in particular.
So, bright and light yet pregnant with inspiration
that the ideas refracted off the green grass
and stretched out for the rest of my life
The people grew branches
and bloomed blossoms and
smelled of crisp forgiveness.
And you were there, and you and you.
I feel my pupils,
My legs become,
A nimble stalk of grass
Blowing in the breeze
Everything is fucking awesome,
The hand of God Himself could not bring me down
From this man made chemical high
I struggle to pull a cigarette,
From a freshly opened pack
Because I can't quite feel my finger tips
Damn you, Marlboro..
Leaves shake involuntarily,
On the trees before my eyes
The little piece of square paper,
That rests upon my tongue,
Brings me harmony