letters from the sky

open me slowly

with cursive tongue

tap into my bloodstream

with golden fingertips

and listen as it hums

to be carried away

in the fertile blue of night

be still

take your time

elevate with the colors

to braid with your mind

in fields of gold let fingers stroll

beneath oak gardens and trailing fescue

summon the pages

as they make love with the sun

Slow Motion – Sidewalks and Skeltons

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