Vanity, take your measurements -
Tailor me a suit to cover all character.
Take all discretion, only
As to whether I'm dressed pleasant
And wear a guise that's hygienic.
It's all very copacetic,
A couple of sweet words
More akin to syrup than cane;
Unnatural and fake.

Do I speak in cryptic ways,
Vague, and detached from
The normal? Do words lash out
In resemblances of diatribes
That drown out all else meaning?
It is not on purpose,
I read too much
Or, I've read.
Pandora's box opened,
Atop Babel's tower,
Clawing my way back up
Not to shut the lid
But change direction, orientation

The splices of life, cabled webbing -
Had you everything you ever reasonably need,
And before you the ability to facilitate
The creation of artificial imitation
Near indistinguishable from reality,
Would you venture outside the confines
From control to chaos, and knowledge to mystery?
Or would you just enjoy plastic scenery?

So much to say, which means so little;
So little to say, what that means much.
These ends we face, often,
Come on fast and taper out just as such.
What that remains: naught but thought.
Loose and multiplicitous as strands,
Hair of the artist's brush,
Colors as the richest palette -
Bold & bright, deep & dark

the scent of incense
hangs heavy in the air
the constant murmer of voices
comes crashing like waves
but your eyes meet mine
and the faces disappear
the voices die,
all that remains
is an unspoken invitation
from my lips
willing yours to kiss them
and yours happily
meet their request
leaving our love tasting
like oranges
tenderly plucked
from moonlight lips.

i am so tired
but
everything that
exhausts me
keeps me
awake
at night