of late, the speed of amiable clouds
lull then swallow that which bears
the rustle of weeds on late night's walk
among quartets of crooning songbirds...
here i lie
motionless like the tint of a wayfarer's
breath.. above me, a carouse lof whistling stars
flicker in season’s dewdrop of life,
and i inhale the incredibly hypnotic call
of migrant breeze that swings
upon ribs of leaves where tenderness
gushes with tenderness...
how unstoppable are the fingers of nimbus
spilling a basin
of lotus and minted potpourri
into my territory, requesting
the jezebel in my body for a sway of
and i stray among petals meshed
with anklets of grass; exploring how i can taste
more of this sprawling splendor
so pagan and pure that a muted gasp
can wipe the emptiness of any human moment.
i feel the immaculate smoke above me
enter my sacral vein…
as i welcome the fire, together with ice.
Above The Clouds Contest of Drake Ezses