Seconds of celestial subsequence,
I inhale the seasons and the skies
I imbibe a surreptitious waltz by some blind, starry-eyed fireflies
I launch my mind’s arrows at a companionless galaxy
From the constellation to my lips,
My heart’s words melt in my mouth from the heat of a star that has slaughtered gravity
My thoughts metamorphose into ink and I whisper the lunacy I would write in a million letters
I weave what I breathe in, soak up, and send out into a web of unspoken sentiments as melodious enigmas steadily unfetter.