Radio went down and we all perked up...
What was next, if not this bliss?
Something else had our attention:
We were never the same since.

And it went on a lot like love;
It pulled, it pushed, it broke and bound.
We thought we had something won,
But our hearts still hit the ground.

Our lives, so made of fine displacement,
Shape and shift in constant replacement. 

We are pieces on a board
Plucked and moved by
Twisting fate;
Nothing lasts but tastes so sweetly,
Burning words and looks discreetly
Given from perfect eyes
That move like music
Heavenly created.

Stoned

I'm an audio-lamplight walkabout
Forest fire,
I'm a rough edge scrape step, stumble,
Fallen, seen in harsh light,
Scrutinized or criticized, loved or
Hated by the ones that walk around.
Too much sensory love for
The things that pull a heart so easy.
I am beaming light bent backwards
Easy, and I fold simply like
A paper plane from an older hand.
Familiarity in the crease of time when
You think about it for a moment.
God, the buildup for this beauty,
Well it's got to be something. Maybe
I'll explode into a million pieces,
And scatter me into the atmosphere
Amongst the infinite grace of
Environment.