These days are inexplicable life poetry.
Energy runs slowly like magma sinuous across the cracked high up earth.
Tears tell of happenstance and now that happenstance has passed.
An inert push of blood rings through a torpid body and mind as prisms spill onto kissed foreheads.
Mercurial pulses, tapestries of sleep, aquamarine embraces.
These days turn to form, to manifest.