Circle Red
Flowing in quiet space,
Long luxurious lines defaced.
Guided paths that bring me awake.
Heart beat pump, and eyes dilate.
Miles of purity in its finest taste.
In what's described as night.
Release.
Drifting color,
A blur of light.
Purposefully we scatter,
In hearts we accumulate.
Tunnel aimless,
Timeless without desire.
Filling variables, exchanging place.
Gradually we split while we climb,
Gathering the pace.
Collapsing inward we're lost,
Holding on tightly we brace.
Copyright © Josh Cumpian | Year Posted 2009
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