Tupelo Magnolia

Nectar from the energies

of the true

love songs and their patterns

on Victorian lace traced upon

naked emotions

with sweet fingers

invisible brushes painting that hot shine

on the snowscape's softglow powder shimmers

with circle fires burning the warm lines upon faces

like the borealis sound in harpsichord runs

or the real sacred feedback without any effect pedals

in that voice there's a buzzing

hitting the clavicles with kisses

understanding within the auras of sensation

we both know the light of the dead shines through

seeing your eyes are there, it'll make you feel the forever

knocking on the door of your transcendental

sometimes the wind will howl on the top of your own voice

out over the mountain ridges singing

throwing bird wing spectral diamondshines

over the very edges of the breaking light

I can tell you too:

There's no other ever spark,

you're not alone.