Where
is our Heart, the lyric of souls, an ankh for spirits! I chime through grays, to feel for
paranormal,
drifting
the higher self. Its cosmic essence,
this second thought, the vexation of frontal lobes.
We live astrology, to swirl through karma,
to dance through illusions; where this is life, streaming from thought to
thought, to questions delusions. I
want us more to see, a family of unison, to sight for Jupiter. We die in Neptune, rubbing tiger stones,
to defuse a travesty; in which are nightmares, blended with yogic tea, to
feature the ransom. I nibble a star, peering at morning rain—the
cherries of this
wine;
where
hell is law, to feel for guilt, to travel through mars.
It’s Wednesday Ash, surfing an
underground, to melt through promises; in which are lies, but never intention,
to lose for foresight. The tears are
there, as heavy as caution, to sprint through winds. I love us living, to see for pain, the
confetti of souls; whereat is wisdom, the lute of prose, to picture a
novella. There’re halls and clouds,
to finger grass, where something was kept; for hitherto, to witness for daily,
to never gesture. It’s torn the flats, as numb as psychs, as wanton as ambition…for
saffron hopes, to curb an appetite, to nibble poison berries. I see us floating, spinning in twirls, to
clamp a palm; where god is beige, a flurry of differences, to feel
sentimental. Oh the feelings, to
flood a soul, running through deer eyes.
