in a
land of
constant pianissimo,
you are
a symphony--
the most
brilliant crescendo.
and i
cannot cease
this tremolo
of you
i'm holding
inside me.

black. the black consumes the way black circles. on nothing nothing remembrances. heart. utterly black numb looking. full between. and the full soul vacant of vacant is too beat. secret. nothing and moonwhite between. heart. heart. must beat. beat. black who echos between. must be between. is the of between. i of interior inseparable and so shadows sleep. i sleep. had eyes. crying. us! inseparable and crying. had deserted the eyes. everything. to you and of you. of slipped sleep. the sleep. we knew the way to the interior. shadows of interior i couldn't photograph. crying. you interior. over our game. inseparable shadows hid and so i knew we were a photograph. we hid everything. o, slipped shadows, sleep. sweet waking. in eyes of a sleepy no-life. everywhere. the diminishing head. and dreams. blank. brainwashed. diminishing days, obsolete eyes everywhere. light of directions. death. waking all the stars. like the sleeplessness. dreams. and brainwashed of sleepy disease. worn-out with memories. life everywhere. eyes sticky of memories. tell breath my pointless swallow is invalid. tell breath i want to be a cloud bank.

i feel so unbearably detached. i haven't been able to write as i used to. time vanishes and i become trapped in its loop. my thoughts are erratic and perpetual, though hardly satisfactory. today everything was mucked. the weatherwoman announced our atmospheric region would be reaching the temperature high of 86, but all day my body succumbed to constant states of shivering. the sky was one solid sheet of gray-hued periwinkle emoting indiscernible sensations of empty. vacancies are dangerous terrains. when starring into nothingness, minds are bound to map the most delusory paths. projections of swollen clouds. swollen existences. swollen heart valves. the rhythm of our swollen world. energies clamoring. everything ceasing. abysses. abysses. and never truly knowing what it truly is to know.

sometimes. because sometimes. so sometimes.

i feel suddenly lost wandering amid mucky puddles of introversion. it's the good kind of lost. the psyche misplacement we all once in awhile should traverse through. i cannot yet tell if it 's some faulty neurotransmission due to lazy synapse firing or purely my own eyelids' lack of rest. likely both, and a deathly mix. the following photos are documentation and result of what transpires during this period of mind rewiring. i desperately need to brew some tea.

our tangibility is transient.
our love is eternal.

in 33 minutes i'll be calling her. she will rise from bed, not by the sun, but my voice. she will board a plane and float through the clouds and waking earth towards me. shortly after which i'll navigate the freeways as arteries towards her. in less than 8 hours we will embrace. then she'll sit beside me as so many times imagined, vacantly. and we'll have breakfast and gaze heavily with hearts beating. in less than 24 hours i will reach 21 years of existing here. all of which i haven't really been here. i'm only grounded 11% of the time, the rest i'm in a constant state of dreaming. even when awake. roughly 5 hours or so after gracing this passage, her and i will travel back in time where my family will embrace her for the first time at their quaint coffee shop abode. after which we will take to each other and roam lands full of foliage and love, at the end of the night sleeping beneath a blanket of the brightest stars. the next day we will travel back and keep to ourselves as much as able. cherishing every parcel of the other. every piece of stardust. until she must lastly part. and i'll fall back to dreaming. counting persian moonflowers as i weep.