Quibbling with the wind,
My invisible Muse gives no reason for why I should halt here,
Halt and take refuge from the onslaught of time.
He is warm above my skin,
Though touch is yet to be made a memory.
Thrown deep into the cavern of my existence,
The sound of him rests, for he lives within me now-
Echoing in brooding companionship.
We are One, on levels that know no finite depth
Escalating ever upward toward that interplanetary ride...
Coalescing on this path, roaming has predicated purpose
Even throughout all transitional breathing, we continue to climb
Aching for the candor in our contiguous union,
For therein lies, all fruit from past labor
A future melded, multitudinous-