Monday, May 16, 2011


We bend the light 
from a sunlit sea 
and strum its colored strands.

We capture the burst 
of a fallen star 
bounce it betweeen
our upheld palms
and pop open seeds 
to speak like flowers.

We glide through rock
with aeonic seduction
whispering, “multiply”  
and it does
 into tiny grains of sand.

“Don’t tell.” we murmer,
and travel on...

We are so beloved 
the rock willingly 
to its
molten core 
and does not tell.