The Flame Melds So Slick the Shadows
Brown black centipedes crawl from within the white washed walls
Their shadows, creeping and quick, are cast througout the halls
Echoing thoughts bring a crashing sound to my ears, clattering
Music buried deep evokes what my mind hears, shattering
Rumpled white sky drifts like a melting glacier, carved flat
Or floats like a wiffle ball hit by this Summer game's yellow bat
Like this golden silver streak that now threads the monet-like sky
Emerging fire I behold with my stupored, half-shut eyes
The breeze tickles my doughy molded face with the stinging red roses
After a day journeying inward, my shelled body reposes
Encased like a cracked but unbroken nut, fading after the sun has ripened
And this hummus colored sun, now amber rose as it sinks, spreads the horizon
And the surrounding land, its bumpy rough edges and valleys, is slowly widening
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