the trees
- that I will always remember,
stretch on
into a cataclysmic cyclone
of riotous, rhythmic ecstasy.

Inside the caustic attempts
To clearly communicate
Are tiny pearls
Of complicated intentions,
That swirl
- cosmically
through the
very depths
of twenty microscopic moments
that have silently
passed
between us.

In the morning
The joyous sound of your
Incredibly
Soft breath
Reawakens
What I remember being
The warmth
In the voice
That asks for more.

I step cautiously
Into a monstrous pool
Of what must certainly be
Nourishing sunlight,
And in an instant
The melodic neurosis
Of ten million late nights
Explodes
And the pieces
Quietly accumulate
At the foot of my bed
Until I’m not
Sure if darkness
Has ever come;
Until I am
Surrounded
By an Irie Sea
That causes my bed
To float
Through an
Aquatic forest
- on a mountain
I may
Or may not
Have made up.