To See & Feel

I imagine a stern temper, to melt for love, somewhat mean

and calm. There you stand, longing increase, aiding a

nation: so deep, so strong, and cultured. A soul is sharply

annoyed, filtering through politics, a true humanitarian.

I see you at a market, a basket full of wit and champagnes.

I pause to speak, to ask such a silly question, merely to

hear a voice. “Indeed, that’s on aisle seven.” Such a meet

and greet, unlike others, and so brief—to collect so much.

I compare it to fifteen seconds with psychs. Indeed, I’m

lacking much. But life is perception, unlike breath, full of

non-existence. I feel you fingering breezy winds, walking

a chant, pondering something bitter. There’s surely a

method, a hidden magic, leaping as we cross paths. So I

feature form, found in prose, as open as silence. But love

is life, a gentle disposition, flowered upon seismic souls.