The wind blew, I listened without taking note
The flat land ate memory as I drove, script- expiring.
Itinerary has been whispering of detours, and I prepare
to obey.
Landscape unfurling within ridges of grey
The matter maps new paths.
Dry brush soothes as the whirling dervish protects its wildness.
Warning of blindness if one were to wander there,
Amidst unnamed lands and virginal stones.
Only the unwoven are welcome, to chart nothing but the memory
Of soft, wild life, unowned.
Nature's voice is aromatic effervescence
Licking the nape with tendrils of silent soliloquy
Never to be repeated, only loved in their maiden voyage
As they pass in and out of open palms, that seek to feel meaning
On unborn plans.
I lay in thought, upon reclined offerings
From a source I have not once doubted,
Tantalizing the feel of all I suspect...
'Erotica, reverberate
Implode my desire and then
Ricochet, infinitely...'
As pieces of my lifelong puzzle return to me
I lament less each day, acutely aware
Of the warmth headed towards me.
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