Morning falls
from a budding
   cherry tree;

   the colour
of nightsong’s
waning blossom
   comes to be
       an echo
   only heard
   by the wind

Soundless remnants
   of an intimate
twilight odyssey
   tarry thickly,
drifting lightly
through the landscape
      of dawn

   The hushed echo
   wields the silent
         reverie
      of the night,
   gently rippling
   the rivers that run
   through the heart

The poignant taste
of passionfruit lingers
in the sensory traces
      of a warm
   passing breeze;

      penetrating
   the lonely chill
   of a naked night's
      work of art

                ~


           Jesse

an undulating reverie
hangs heavy in the silence
past canyons abundant with sunlight
and dreams made out of cotton

there, beyond the intoxicating haze,
you stood.

my lips uttered no words
that the universe could decipher
but the midnight tide understood
what i truly meant

now, if only you could, ma chérie

but the scrupulous colloquy is bound to break
and the stratosphere rewinds again
past divine oculists and obstinate facsimiles
and beyond the desolate valleys
where no sunshine dares to embark

and what’s left in the end
at the very edge of such a disenchanting,
morose fantasy

is you, and me,
and an undulating reverie.

I’m from a world exactly like ours
     where the days aren’t measured by hours
{ * + & sometimes I feel like I have superpowers + * }
     there, the grass is blue & the sky is green
          > but most things are backwards in-between <
               nothing is ever what it seems

     <<< I'm lost inside heavenly hyperbole
     in the clouds of my own mentality
     a one-of-a-kind, life-like reality
     floating in anti-gravity >>>

     welcome to my favorite delusion
          @ your world is nothing but c o n f u s i o n @
everything is just an illusion allusion?
     let's dream until the next revolution

                    * * * * *
     it was     all a technicolor blur,
     only     upside-down and inside-out
     a     place unlike any other,
     dream     of the world in every color
                    * * * *

On the eve
Of the eve
Of tomorrow
I heard a distant cry

On the eve
Of the eve
Of tomorrow
Was never answered why

On the eve
Of the eve
Of tomorrow
Now isn't as it seems

On the eve
Of the eve
Of tomorrow
Today was but a dream

He pit
work with
celebrity as
flat crest
hone its
barter where
in fold
of space
and time
with directive
in marketing
score that
with the
code that
holds famous
till another
day break.