The precipice

Welcome to my world.

The sky here is malachite,
here crystal grass is cerise crimson
.clean.
rivers flow upwards,
glider clouds rideable,
artificial shores art,
oceans of poetry of oceans of poetry of ebb and flow,
mauve rainbows edible,
home?
...everywhere

Meet Eloquence,
my wife,
Muse,
my mistress,
.finesse.nuance.
Miss Conception,
my whore,
Miss Carriage,
the temptress

Here, every
.single.
touch grants an orgasm

Here, we
eat water, drink fire and
we have desert wind for dessert here.

Here, we
hunt for metawhores
.with.
our inert emoguns,
loaded with us,
allness grow on trees,
just unlike thyme,
rhymes don't rhyme

Here,
.every.
thing/entity has a pattern,
soul,
order
and their imperfections
.are.
perfect

Here,
momentum, moments and memories don't exist,
for Time prefers to play
.GO with.
gravity, so all is bound by
.will.
to power

Hear,
.music.
is born inside our heads,
so resplendent,
ocean water intrusion,
imminent
.tears.
apart our pulsemakers
into
tatters, ruins and splinters

In this perpetual
.now.
we periphrastically dance,
being everywhere,
knowing everything

Well...
.of course.
heaven and hell are present herein,
but in both wells of wellness dwell,
those that make everything well,
those that heal souls from within.



I love you all
in my world
.