vpoet, re:

 from mind of mine to you,Ocean, my                Mother Waving                           within this sphere of light upon the surf                                                       in broken lines shining                                                                             shining upon the shadow’d crest of edge of tide;as flow these crashes, tumble’d, come                               lightning caught in fever’d gulp of waveas though              as though                            as though breaking to be broken from the breeze of [...]

this life,this world        [we live in],is but an egg     of unknown many,     as though in bushel kept with wrap of torn-open shell     countless with its offering

if i could turn around                and turn around                                                                                                                  i would                        to see your frown turn upside-down                                                               i would                                                        in quiet rise of corners’ creasing skyward-bound, i would

all/everything     is but a foremoment                 in thought                     forgotten,                     and remembered,                     and forgotten;        though you,                 you remain,                   you..

dt-dt-..            the fan ..dt-dt-..           breaks my ..dt-dt-..           thoughts apart, ..dt-dt-..            counting You, ..dt-dt-..            innumerable, ..dt-dt..            in sight ‘n’ ..dt-dt-..            ‘motion’d heart; ..dt-dt..           these thoughts, ..dt-dt-..            falling, ..dt-dt-..            in happened stacks ..dt-dt..           are layed ..dt-dt-..            on nerves ..dt-dt-..            from toe to ..dt-dt-..            head’s back..                               dt-dt-..

wake from shiver, Memories,as you be fully-made to mastersweet-lovely sea of skin;as though you pilot Thought insurging wave receding ‘ponthese morrow pillars pearl’d;with short rub of root’n nerve:electric,ever-fumbling is your way from light to dust

if these words,these        manipulations of breath             placed upon the lips                       and let sift through translucent kiss/                             nagging peck at back of thought..ah.. if all i had were these words,          would you still see my worth          or would you cry and cringe          as though a begging loiterer          i have become through inverse’d sins?