“Respite (rest. spit)”

I appreciate the concept of deserving aprication,

Taking a vacation,

Lying in a hammock eating apricots and whatnot

While engaging in meditative contemplation.

The sun, moons, and stars: all of 'em being ours,

The momentous occasion ad nauseum known as now,

The aroma ovening in the evening,

The cleaving of the digits,

The melting of its hands like cheese.

Salvator Dali's dimension'd genius

Plagiarized right on time

At least twice a day;

A...still life.

But I move way too fast for that.

Sped of life's so fast, it casts shadows

Illusioning itself as standing in one place.

So much movement;

Brahms at dawn, only to Chopin again and again.

It's an insanity I'm unfortunately in love with.

That...sadness wears...lavender and chamomile

In such a soapy way, it washes clean my daze...

And dares me to dream.

Sow, eye dew.

My mourning outdrinks the trees

Which...helps the peaches grow.

Apples to oranges,

Vast orchards? Black orchids...

Tomay-to. Tomah-to.

It's all the same.

It's work.

It's worth.

It's incomplete on purpose,

So I'll keep moving on.