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Ice As A New Solid
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Vintage Words .
Gliding atop a cataclysm of rush
that descends and spirals onto lush
pillows of desired skin breathing hush
as in a whirled wind of luxurious plush.
.
Floating inside raw cotton with seeds
as if procreation was the fabric of needs
I am chaff from disintegrating weeds
wet sans rust, where water beads.
.
Glimpsing under the stand of creation
that arrives to a reclining ovation,
you are the causes in my imagination.
I inhale hard, give back hard exhalation.
.
allets
08-15-13
12a
.
