How High

Suck on unsound thorns and brandish rosy heads over me…

Five hundred bloody petals dance and quiver over me.

Arms stretch out and I spin to lift up towards the timid sun,

Spiral to Heaven, broken pencils hover over me.

Open hands cup and paddle through stars and milky way dark,

Knees bend and snap to feather kick the earth up over me.

Reeling up to the rising, toes drown in liquid crescent…

Dreaming through Beta blue, week-old fish bowls try to ground me.

Wish I could fall away, lose myself in timeless rapture,

Look up long enough to taste the rumors blushing over me.

Copyright © 2010 N.E. Tasker

This entry was posted on Friday, January 8th, 2010 at 6:00 am and is filed under Poetry. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.

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