Also Mutants

Perfect Clear

6-20-17

You see language rearranging right in front of you.
It sounds purple and clandestine, like
the castle it came from under your own breath.
Never too puzzled to search; never content to believe.
Every side has changing sides and your job
isn't to alphabetize them, but catalog their
features...like I note yours each night before sleep
takes me over and farther away from you.
Color my eyes with your lungs.
Fill me with danger should I not feel.
Take me to where you see me, so I may
rest upon the tops of your cheeks and be
all my visions animated through your softness.
Turn me into a perfect clear.