Tuesday, October 19, 2010

DiScO BalL

The glimpse in a glance, we walked, talked and danced.
The shiny tiny mirrored ball rang and sang our song.

I love you for the one thing you do.
Be it smiling or sadness, laughter or tears,
joy or devastation, tireless happy thoughts
or dark empty voids, I still love you
because I saw an authentic version
of my human being in you. 

The two of us in one move, one groove,
swinging to and fro, back and forth
like a disco ball glowing with rays of light
reaching and stretching out to four walls
and the beloved aren’t constrained to any at all.  

Our disturbed souls wander like flashing
strobe lights echoing in the mind
slow and fast displays of night and day.
Its an illusionary absence of gray
a pleasant substitution of a flash freeze
mingling minds meet in sweet melee.

A dull bulb lays underground, in sound coming back around.
Glitter  in daylight rests in a giggle, grin, or delicate grace.
Heartbeats go beyond range, smiling, waving bodies move like mixing beacons of sight readily gaining momentum for flight in obscure delight.  
It’s the torch in a tunnel of blithe.

The one of sum is the add one for some.
Conscious streaming in video dreaming.
Black light in incandescent chromatography
with ultraviolet sonic scenes illuminating and directing
sensations of unseen creations.
Noir macrocosms breathe life. 

Visual maps of mental mass in mind
virtual visions of vivid encrypted
messaging and massaging of our existence
the glade galaxies move to guide
gifts gathering for global gratitude of good-nights.
The evening turns to an aurora of sunshine.

Melodious harmony of 
Moving beats in bravo, alpha, delta sonnets
the signs of signature in single minutes.  
Swim in showering senses of centered stages
of destiny and epiphanies of earthly times.  
Drum the key another song.

Slowly build the verse and vibrations
of exquisite emotions in three, two, one.  
I Love You is One Four Three
building numbers is not significantly
like the verve in the pheromone of emotions
conducts warm attachment to the blaze of discs.

The heart raves waves of trace particles
familiar matters of dust, rising and falling in
the softness of touch, flow and motility
in the sparkle of collision and continence
reliance rests in the return of desired sight
beginning with one like.

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