Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

When I am still, save respiration’s true-
time metronome and hushed vibrations of
contextual postmodernism, I
delight in onomatopoeias sweet
within imaginations mine; I hear—
breath in, breathe out— soft, constant is your name
and uttered constantly upon the air
that aptly rushes through those spaces where
my being folds to atmosphere. You tame
me by my need to call you, by my fear—
should silence still your name— I’d fall replete
in loneliness; and yet I seem to try
so often to forget you— you and love—
imprison breath till forced to call on you.

when I
in ethereal's
true embrace
release a soft
& careless
protest
may we still
expose our
flaws & relish
in their freedom

There you go again, i've been waiting to read you.

smile

P