Burning Pitches of Fervor

Light tiptoes through the static of dust caught in cinematic expression beyond the good Sun’s third eye, and my heart dances

Within my soul, expanded past the skin of my consciousness, harmony meets circumstance and fate diverges until it is once in communion with itself, and shades of peace fall

And I can’t help but see shadows of blue exhaling from the mouths of wild fruit —

Fresh, aromatic, and so ripe with profundity that the oxygen cries with delight, and I am afraid to reach for it