consumed are the days
that I wait for your touch
like the eager lips of the morning
we plan such and such
in a deep daisy haze
my journal embraced without warning
the indolent indigos
praise your ways
unbound hair combed wind of yearning
each future, bladed days
chopping time
fueling this moment's fire for learning
you tug at the parts of me I can't see
sensitive to your flagrant minutia
and you hold what I ceased to love or believe
the fatigue of a soul with subdued "yeahs"
please place rotary roles at the helm
clasp our hands for a cosmic prayer
our tongues touch our lips careless light languages
as our bodies become textured air