A day had wrapped two frowns Around my shoulders Because the sun was indifferent So I stood on my hands And told a friend That sunburn Is a matter of perspective
Full of life
Silent things are not for conquering
Sense is the seeing, believing, the touching, tasting, the being
The slopes that rise and fall With our breath between them Are a sihloutte of green hips On the horizon: Suspended across the skies In an effortless sprawl, They are wild thighs To the wondering mind As a pen is to paper The incarnation of daydreams.
A moment of self-awareness captured through an intentionally monochrome description of love.