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We are not feeling well
a mysterious pain
that has been coming on
since the onset of immortality
how else to speak of
the ache from our inner conscious
leaking out into silence
while we spread our peacock tails
within our cages
an almost sign
that we're free
and our moon
our beautiful sister
plucks our muted ribs
the heart strings of her lute
and watches over us sweetly
in soft sadness
through two diaphanous orbs
like a beautiful proof
that she can also abscond
but we simply stare!...
in floral speleoligical alchemy
faintly stirring profound relations
in penetrating gazes
impenetrable meditations
and immobilities
a daze of dizzy depths
opening longing petals
reversing our
unending days and nights
smitten by
witnessing ourselves
with the secret pity of siblings
that nourishes and fatigues
the golden shimmer
that we are more than animals
greater than lifeless stone
seeping from our skin (just before it bristles)
in a tranquil floating scent
a mist that frightens and soothes us
like our own lilac nakedness
vulnerable to each other
and to loves' nocturnal osmosis...
a mysterious pain
that has been coming on
since the onset of immortality
how else to speak of
the ache from our inner conscious
leaking out into silence
while we spread our peacock tails
within our cages
an almost sign
that we're free
and our moon
our beautiful sister
plucks our muted ribs
the heart strings of her lute
and watches over us sweetly
in soft sadness
through two diaphanous orbs
like a beautiful proof
that she can also abscond
but we simply stare!...
in floral speleoligical alchemy
faintly stirring profound relations
in penetrating gazes
impenetrable meditations
and immobilities
a daze of dizzy depths
opening longing petals
reversing our
unending days and nights
smitten by
witnessing ourselves
with the secret pity of siblings
that nourishes and fatigues
the golden shimmer
that we are more than animals
greater than lifeless stone
seeping from our skin (just before it bristles)
in a tranquil floating scent
a mist that frightens and soothes us
like our own lilac nakedness
vulnerable to each other
and to loves' nocturnal osmosis...
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