mesophilia; stretching ones arms out
vagabonds facing a recursive day
gathered round fires plotting through the night
we flee the dictions of time and space
Into an ever expanding plane
a desert, a burning flame
Hodgepodge of wood and gas and lying
Chalking up chances at apparition
Balking at trinities and dualist signs
I am:ma I
singular swinging flux
singular lulling mum
Hurry boys I thought I swore we cached our caught and sullen glimpses hopping on the wisp of a mirage
The faint
beat of mystic fodder
rising from the sand
gypsy band of brothers
incoherent mess
Wind harsh night toes freezing
cant sleep shed my tomb
of this ancient body
beneath barren moon
Into a ground and solid state
buried beneath the weight
of dunes and burning yellow shine
At last I'll free this massive thing
and soft step into being
the tiny spaces in between
dot-dot-dot-dot-dot-dot
singular swinging flux
singular lulling mum
Now I'm
between cup and water
between cheek and tear
every grain I fondle
beneath the veneer
of all our misconceptions
and civilized careers
a desert whispered something
we chose not to hear