Thursday, October 15, 2020

question soup 2.0

naked in the Sunday sun

the fan licks 

everything I hung on the black wall

dancing with corners coming unstuck

the fluttering

he's painting a flower with his tongue

I'm tripping on colors

rainbows, black and sunshine

subterranean matter making earthly shapes

holographic, sparkling

what even is a relationship?

an envelope you step in and out of

consent to a mutual reality

something to see by, to see through

I sit on the bench over the beach 

with a cigarette as heavy as the ocean

little girls or are they little seals 

bobbing in the surf

this doing nothing

is who we really are

I want to see the flowers the way I saw them

I want to see the people they way I saw them

I want to hear the celestial music

see the higher order again

be better for the people I love

make them better too