Spoken like butterflies from down under
rise from the moss, where we once slipped and slept
visionaries commence intoxicating shadow play
blurry is beauty quickening heartbeats to ache
before the street cleaner comes
that melodious avalanche of distortion, slithering
there is no line in sand
that withstands the surf
in awe of your endless reverie
crossed over
kite above sandstorm.
