Thought to Mirror & Mirror to Thought

It was so easy, love: to see us moving, living life, and dialing

ghosts. So many signs spoke this love, as ageless as water.

I picked a word, my love, so unfamiliar: does water spoil? I’m

so young, an Isley fan, nibbling trail mix. I often feel old,

witnessing winds spark a spirit. I listen to a silent pose,

thrown into fantasy, where humans possess special powers.

I love an unseen, spotted in events, mirror to mirror, and face

to face. I see it in gestures, feel it in myth, and live it in waves.

Such contention: love is forever. We often feel different,

wrestling thoughts, and pinning mirrors. Indeed, I speak in

code, to spark affection, to feel the living. Such is interior, a

broad canvas, as boundless as the skies of love. I’m somewhat

dreamy, filled with coffee, attempting to muse a light hand.

What is this mischief, consuming richness, the vaguest

beauty? It’s both freedom and limitation, aging with nature.