The Hot Place

Metal word bridge
Makes me like the feel of keys

Waiting for the incoming message string
Like the rustle of feather tucked away in my finger

Or the air charged with warmness fantastcial meaning


Intellect is progress
And progress makes for reeling

Forward spilling beaches stretching
Through endless skyview of waterlined ribbons

Sparkling their pathways to lands far and reaching


Constant changing season
Intoxicating with it’s display of aether
A return to the past on the tip of the future

The way the stars look on the cloak of the ceiling

The way time looks when it takes on some meeting