The Hot Place

The trees miss the wind at introspective hours
Like a car drive down a lonely road
Preferring ones own company
But yet not especially
There is a timeline where all words escape you
And what is left is a hum in the head
Like left iris to left brain
Catching off location
If you listen very closely you can see the air move
Between two structures of electrical blood
Chimes in the atmosphere slowly cling
I want to return in fascination.
May I return in fascination?
Like two red disks held back from each other
By rubber band taught word mixography
From catapults do they spring released
To make one watery canopy