I hold my own hand<\/p>\n
Walking on cracked dreams<\/p>\n
They poke and stroke upward<\/p>\n
Soft and hardly in heaven<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Walking through the undergrowth<\/p>\n
Whispers tickling ears with frosty bites<\/p>\n
Texture everywhere, in on everything<\/p>\n
All the skin and light and soulful misty mights<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Sights sensing my sensory salutations<\/p>\n
Tempered into being with my growing wonder<\/p>\n
Capturing stars in human shaped jars<\/p>\n
Seeing into the nothing of deep sleep<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Clouds rule here on high<\/p>\n
Soft and mellow soundboards to our whim<\/p>\n
Lightening the load for each individual soul<\/p>\n
Carpeting together the woven wandering<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Dreams may come and rise and grow<\/p>\n
Strangely changing oneness into us<\/p>\n
Lest eternity ebbs for nothing<\/p>\n
Flowing origin into our manifolds<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
My perspective\u00a0is granular here<\/p>\n
In the abyss of reflection and shapelessness<\/p>\n
Tired continuity of bloody watered soil<\/p>\n
Tearing myself from my self<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Waiting for a you called true<\/p>\n
Insisting hands held are ever together<\/p>\n
Wishing paths walked point forward<\/p>\n
Feeling this frictioned existence<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
This heaven seems hellishly born<\/p>\n
Unavoidable and unstoppable<\/p>\n
Burning all so that next<\/em> might be<\/p>\n Destructive creation we are and see<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Lost and tossed utopian bliss<\/p>\n This otherness that makes all of this<\/p>\n Infinite detail in nothingness<\/p>\n The beauty of this fatal kiss<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Written by Raymond Johnsen Lucas<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I hold my own hand Walking on cracked dreams They poke and stroke upward Soft and hardly in heaven Walking through the undergrowth Whispers tickling ears with frosty bites Texture everywhere, in on everything All the skin and light … Continue reading