she kissed me – it was right before she kissed the sunset, too; the perfume of her thoughts was like a ship of rainbows and bamboo the way it floated on the air and settled in my dreams; the opal bracelets on her wrists, were plotlines full of themes
pellucid as her waking thoughts but opaque as her dreams, she walks the ways of an aesthete on starlit balance beams above a high and vaulted way where naught it as it seems — pellucid as her waking thoughts and secret as her dreams
she drew and colored by the hour, and love just grew and grew; not just for who she was, but for the majesty in everything she’d do — her royalty was not a thing that could be taught or clutched, but pow’r and magic in respect of how she transformed everything she touched
for her, to touch is to decorate; the artist, who strives to elaborate, the random, symmetrical or ornate a life of creation and ideation; perpetual narration and psychedelic salvation
a thought broke out, i hear, last night; it finally got some air – about how we are meant to live, and why we ought to care. these ethical imperatives can have lives of their own, and tunnel under our defense, right to our very throne, where they insist on changing things. it’s really most … Continue reading "a flourish #3"
see the pattern in your life, know the reason that you’re you; use the spoon and not the knife, seek museum out, and zoo see that you have not arrived, know that passion is a choice; walk the garden that has thrived, cherish and then use your voice
the flowers, like anemones, are undulating in the breeze; as she breathes in the universe of everything she sees she lives the beauty she imbibes for everyone to see and know, and undulates like flowers that are happy both to stay or go