somewhere in the mind’s blinking eye
maybe the third or something vaporous and celestial
as a quick catch in the smooth cream colored fabric
silky, woven with care by a real woman
speaking with her hands
of these voices of reason
in duality’s treasonous, poisonous breath
questioning the wherewithal by challenging the comforting rasp
this, possibility’s grand adventure
and her damp words on your skin
crawling the curves and arching with appetite
of unyielding presence
it can be heard, in the distant echo of requirement
this may be the time to arrive
this may be the destination blending fire
with defenseless sprouting seeds
these assets visible before they are drawn
dissolving a doubting landscape with maturity
challenging you to grasp the filament
to watch it blossom and unravel
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