Verbose

you: evenings of enveloped highs,

A late night catch-up of syrupy laughs that drip into my mouth, so honey-sweet and rich it makes me full, but not too full and I feel so happy, it’s so summer rich hot as you steal away my eyes, I can only stare at

You, but it doesn’t feel like a microscopic tease but a soft glowing pink marshmallow cloud beam,

I can’t stop thinking how much I want your sound on blast, a recorded message I can replay over & over

Like Billie Holiday

In my Solitude

And I imagine kissing those full lips, and it tastes like lemon tart

A bit like fresh apple cider dripping down,

In a soft glance

Our legs touching

And I feel our breath collapsed,

Drained, atoms divided,

Do you move me like I move you,

Like some other boozy jazzy song, like Nina Simone belting out

Our wedding

Chapel vows in a crystal voice.

I imagine kissing those full lips

And it tasted like fresh crisp mountain air moving along a perfectly clear stream

A waterfall scene,

Atmospheric gleaming dances

That look like glacial mountain tops

Frozen in patterns made by the Hand of God,

And split into hearts of humans that cling to it,

Climb it.

You, ebbed into time, you envision a beautiful moon with webbed starry clusters,

A muse of earth and sun and space,

Of berries split by morning hot summer,

Cut by lemon bounty dew.

A balm of fuzzy, dizzy vision

Now altered by light and new dawn

Sunlight lemon balm muse

You.