Close your eyes…These eyelids are dual anchorssinking shut in a tear rippled sea. where do we go from here?journeying on,following your soul’sfour cornered compass to heaven

Coming storm, I am! Drifting, distant, dampness of rain from afar soddens your lips.    Closer, the storm carries in gentle arms of swift winds, each drop of tear-showers. 

Still anchor, sunk, in tear rippled sea. 

A flower of imperfection, I am, waning with the passing seasons.  Springtime flowers budding to summertime flowering.  this fall time senescence  to wintertime death.  Black flower of psychosis, withering in bloom and beauty withering.  The season of fresh hallucinations  is indeed upon me!