Rose Colored Glasses beneath Blue Skies

Standing in the middle of the road
at noon, in June,
the light is paralyzing. Everything shines
in a glow of possibility.
The beauty is surreal, like lies
in a halo; where
love waits, always waits, beyond
the next sunrise.

Re-lay-shun Ships:

past the breakers,
beyond the let downs
and blow ups; erupting
in swirls of chaos,

of swaying hips
and pursed lips,
floating out in
a sea of noise.

Infusion

Reducing myself to a memory;
I'd freeze onto a cloud, floating
over you, falling,

melting upon your tongue,
to be swallowed and absorbed
inside of you, forever.