Spirits those scars. Dreams those wins.
Giving flame for water; giving existence to love again.
If we owe life, why have we reneged?
I don’t mean to love you—where you seeped in; lately I’ve noticed, we feel each other, indeed, no bigger idea, else, we feel awareness, to wonder if—a person is watching, it’s consciousness.
To blend in, heightened allergies, gothic arts, wilderness deserts. In a tarot deck, to shun—I believe, making history of our futures.
I don’t mean to ponder you;
I don’t like everything in you;
something mystic shines.
Water cascades, tropes, I’d suppose; ontic ears, delving deeper, needing something I’ve imagined;
indeed, phrenic appetites, mental blues, sending a vision, asking for a soul.
A signature means so much!
