he's got his olive eyes splitting at the sun's tired horizon, chasin' that marigold sunrise as venus scatters the sun's rays across the birthing stillness
of morning dreaming,
fluent technicolor waves are what i discern in feeling
when beaches drain, glistening against the bleeding river of the faint eastern skies
when ur soul sits to its shoe on the honeyed vine of our withered youth
patient and gentle, agile is she
even the birds mourn her beauty
a lil' poem from the 7 pm hour
july 9, 2018
