Perfect celebratory makes perfect shudder

song of yesteryear:

2008, 3 september

Perfect makes perfect,
timeless, countless, many of everythings
perfect to allow a count existent. Everything and more
a journal a diary, so shameless am I,
still I refuse to tell
and I won’t utter
it in so many
greedy grabbing words. I aspire to be
sludgeless to calm and to
whine not, to embrace, propose and accept, so
fully, so
fully, such an envelopment, mouthsfull, bodies
full,
over & over. just sharing an omelet,
endearing,
absurd. and definitely enmeshed.
Hope, no, hope is for clouds, The
sweet of his spray.
slowly pounding
nauseous but
strong, eyes
full of happiness & not heavy but
light &
full of
soft &
light,
bright and in the sky like a cloud then.
hope real and not to be wished.
suddenly a fact
then. and the future! from afar,
so delicious the thoughts in our brains,
excessiveness deems bring me back,
earthbound, to wander handholding towards
silhouetted saguaros. No one but the stars; I’ll let
only the ocean caress me and by the time the ocean is too
cold my heart,
drowsily.
Latenight eyes all
full of
light kissing like the
slowmotion, I shudder
celebratory.