Big tropical storm waves.
And how come his body carries that Californian heat, the fragrance of orange blossom in the warm air and the old dark shinny hardwood. Is that a memory i ever wrote about? Arriving in the heart of LA by train. The rose wood high backed benches at the station, are they still there? I know the light is, the light when stepping outside, we coming all the way from Portland. And he the lover carried it all back in. And i gallop my black stallion bare back, naked in the forever bleak fields, first time ever and the rainbow reached me from all the way back east. He is so beautiful, how can a body be perfect like his?
Can you imagine being touched by glory? I wondered last night if we all don't almost die every single day. Awareness in those split seconds, creates all this light flooding in. And the mirrors reflecting it, and the magpies pick it up and carry it on. How can i breath calmly, who do i think i am? As we cross borders the love ripples on. Singing this i call the manes of wild horses, they are back again. And the world was white and the heat where did it come from ? The dry grass, the dark nights once more again.
Just a dusting of tiny crystals in the sand.