Silence;
Turning to dust in the gentle breeze.
Anger subsides
And the turquoise sea drags us down.

Through our ethereal existence,
We listen.
Through our heart’s mind,
We feel.

All we hear is the wind,
And all we feel...

All we feel is our silent suffocation.

and one day we’ll become plants in the ground that fail to grow
we’ll lose our obsession with this meager life
we’ll cling onto nonexistence for eternity—departing from the idea of dimensions
and as deadly as Death is, life is deadlier

in summer sunsets I find the glowing
embers of your eyes
as if the poets and painters
gazed upon your irises in reference

the art sat for centuries before your date of birth
as if some prophecy
that roses could be pale as ice
with scathing tones and imbruing eyes to my forested mind

the scent of a rose
the light of a sun
the glowing from a moon
the dust from a star
the tablecloth on your table
the tree's roots cutting into the earth
a world behind a window
the rain sounding from comfort
sea salt spraying coarse sand
an aesthetic
what a bore