Do You Remember Too
Butterfly bless dances from flower to flower,
sipping nectar with its slender proboscis imitating Bacchus with prospectus,
direct to us.
Streaks in the open air with flagrant color,
as the morning sun gently kisses the earth awake,
now in a mood for romance.
The air is fresh and crisp,
perky and peaked to volley
the sentiment with a mist.
We are caught between-
it's projected as the forefont-backdrop glance
of now's countlessed scene.
Receivers we, deciphering the shapes
and figures that emerge from the silky white
canvased sea-drapes,
characters in popup picturebook,
sharing in the stories and dreams
wisps of love vapor in it's ongoing seems.
And when we find a particularly captivating cloud,
let's lean in close, our lips meeting
for a tender kiss of relativity
that leaves its own mark on our hearts archaeology
to self translate our remarkability of unearthed ruin.
We, embark where time seams, to stand still and everything feels so
wonderful, fully paraledgioned
and anaesthetic of spark hot wiring.
Our with for-abode- patterns in the clouds
of the now's fingerprint residue avowed
in circumstancial placement,
eyes guilty in predicament 'pealing in it's throes.
The apocalyptus that convicts and charges us, takes our breath away to be filtered among,
the living apparatus, peace
of oath boasted periwinks of prose.
The unveiling, heart's Apocalypto seventh sealing.
It's as if each moment holds a unique story of our revealing,
to mine to mime to meme,
waiting to be discovered by those
who take the time
to observe and appreciate them retrospectively.
So, let's lie down on a soft blanket
under the open sky, hand in hand, and gaze up
at the ever-changing canvas above us
-in bathing light, derm imbibe.
As we trace our fingers through the air,
we'll leave our own gentle imprints on the clouds
times nine,
creating a tapestry of love and connection
like a vine of capture
producing love's tanglement wine.
We'll laugh as we try to decipher the shapes
and figures that emerge as our co-stars-co-signed,
get lost in the artistry,
the memories that will forever be etched
in the bio forge of inn between the lines.
A mesmerizing canvas milking dew upon us, eavesdropping briefs of news,
droplets of profligation cosm lens of infiltration.
Can become a magical movie screen,
we, strolling through a serene garden,
wading to be scene, greenery.
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