The Big Picture

Never let loose
This longing for forevermore.

Dance me to the end

Of (ain’t no cure for) love
As we tread the third rail, simply

To feel alive, adorned

By poetry
drenched
In the music of the night

Buried in blackness of the cosmos
as we plant kisses like seeds
In the sacramental soil of our souls.

Resistance is futile, if
the tree of life
Is to encompass all, through eyes

Of the infinitesimal;