The arch crumbled
crashing down as we met
under trestles of raining debris
caught in the web of interlocked ethereal fingers, airy skin to skin:
An azure hole where two forms as one should be, shimmering constellations in the shade of a non-existent bridge;
a coverless bed, we pulled sheets of wind up over our voided forms. Covered against the empty falling sky.
It drifts in the peddles of the blossoming lotos as we meet
fully formed in the celestial forge bellowing the earth in light
YOU ARE READING
Confusion in Underground Clouds
PoetryThis is a collection of assorted poems, detailing one consciousness extending and swirling into another, and another, and another.
