so we sit under our voices.
exploding like fireworks in a lite bulb
of conduction
procreating the cocreational creativity we
smile within
pulsate between
holding hands of limbo
and tenacity
making music like raindrops
etched upon the rifts of tin roofs and
embrace
painting the face of colour on so many pages
wavering like waves in an ocean
of everything
touching upon the teetering tear
of humility
speaking in heartbeats and rhythms
kitetailing moments and presence
in the present unfolding herself
like origamic intricacy
inside the skins of all that bleeds
beats
pumps
pauses.
in the retina of dilation
peripheral vision stings
like hesitation

all of these
streets and neonic streams,
looking in between the beats and the heartaches
between the buildings inside the
cracks
the noise the stimulation
the anticipation



standing in the belly of a somersault


.

delivering a voice

is it a choice


.