one day, I want to stand in a field of lavenders, bending to the mellowness of the setting sun, free of the burdens of worry and regret, with only golden illuminance standing in between myself and all that is above.
one day, the alien reverberations, those cacophonous layers: they will crash down splendid as an orchestra of tides, up above my own wants with others, those miscalculated overcompensations and dreary examinations of worth and resolution.
one day, my skies will shimmer and shine like roses outside the forgotten palace, wild, untamed colors striking me down with absolution and unbiased intent.
across my chest the purple petals blow in the sounds of gods howling their blessings unrelenting.
—
in my own space I reside perfect and private, notes written by the fireplace stained by words of newborn love, contoured by a careless rollercoaster blueprint, an inconsequential doodle that ends right where it began: a living, not merely breathing, specimen of I am.
Drizzle Downwards 