the fact of
a lightswitch
flipped upward
lends the otherwise

what we call something...

as the day is smoothed into
parchment
drawing the sun low
the quiet burn forms within
to take you lustrous into my arms
our sample of eternity
blown through flesh

your neck that same old flute i play
with the grace of twilight
and shirts worn all day draped across chair backs
tremolo embellished with antique scars
that have become priceless
in this constant air thick with
birdsongs and the prize of flight

i see in the mirror of our eyes
the far reaches of space
cells and galaxies
dissonance and sustinence
entwined and
growing lushly
in our heat
my colors to your shape
your shape to my colors

the thick stem of the ivy climbing stone
my dreams

RMT or PMT neither what she says he say matters at all to me either, my very rare friend?
This piece is the finest mindset of equality to humanity desexed I've ever read anywhere??

If this work of pure art slips to the bottom of anyones A to XYZ list, I'll place my X here to keep it well within the public eye!

Much love for sharing this with us

Love Jasper

PS: May I have a copy please?

love Jasper