Cyclope peep through the silent golden Trace
Lift upwards its sight to woe cool
cottons
Below the lovable screen of eternity
When unwilling plural ‘come singular
Cycling with us ensync by fate or choice?
Both intense a searing loves a kindling ember
Unbearable to desert Gobi skies
Eternal cycling slaves in slavery
When Hugeness is in power so far and
Soul is to spirit ours Is what it means
The nimbus is to downpour and bee
to blossom.
Therefore, disappearing tells appearing
With thoughts so in deeds Imagery and
Reality tangible and intangible
Coarseness And fineness: All thise shits are only shits
To Love just becomes our slaves to our
love
That their sir wakes up in endless cycles
Bends Its head To the yawning west
unbends to
stretching east for itself (as it finds
itself)
More slave to its cycling “for all time Come”
Than Birds’ hilariously Atop each other
In the offshoot of tall emerald gem
THAN You with me to bed in nightly dream
SidehuggingMoaningWhininggroaningshriekingpainingenjoying
Below the deepest called ecstasy Seems
forever (yes it’s, know it)
As We enjoin our soul and spirit in
search yes we lie down there
Dreaming And muttering dformdsilhouettedsubstanceessence
about The terrible slave driver
Called
“L’UV”.
Happy Birthday to you
My
LUV
My Only Candy LOVE!
