Apposite Illusions, and the Dreamer.

Formed, I stood, I watched the world flow through celestial sacred eyes, I collapsed, in deformation.

The soul of stars, birthed in felicitous remembering, everything wrapped in the darkening wake of those hidden nights, the clock face turns.

Recharged, reformed, rebirthed.

The dance continues through empty space, naked vibrations felt deep within the skin, the mother.

Who were the words that joined us? Common promise? Kaleidoscope deviations? And here we were again, driving the planets to enchanted resistance, wedded to the hour, we all come home.

  

© Phen Weston 2015

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