the leaves have changed color, shedding the emerald hue for yellows and reds, the winds have cooled and the world feels slower
i couldn’t tell you the day, the date or even the time, it’s daytime, the dancing shadows through the canopy tell me that much
I looked up to see the swirling of parchment paper poems and I knew there was a season coming. And I don’t mean fall or spring. I mean like new beasts that live in our hearts and chains released from our locked bones. How strong is your shadow? All the nuances of bird feeders preparing for winter and tethered in that string of fall leaves transmits a sweet stillness in the air.
sleepwalking, never quite in the moment, not really here, the noise of the world is a buzz easily lost in this fog of her inebriating nImbus
in these lost hours, my silence is filled with her even as the universe imposes its will, nothing can pry my mind away from her captivating being
I don’t asked to be noticed, in fact i believe if I just sat so still I could be camouflaged by a pearl-shine passing of a cloud in the dark. But you notice me always, and I think it’s my eyes. Glowing with stardust in a dim lit eternity. the best I feel is on fire, the best I feel is in your mouth the best I feel is in the composition of color and the cool shade of unrest.
around me, the leaves fall, silently drifting to blanket the ground in a field fiery colors, in my mind, in my mouth, her tempestuous inferno roars
EC is poetry to me she is a primal force and i gladly get swept away in her glorious ways.