aromaticness

There are just so many faces,
Pale, freckled, dark like the sky,
They look around, looking here at me,
Into the edge of time,
Into the spiral endlessness of divinity,
On each face eyes, words beyond a mere poem,
Sparkle and watch, skin tingles, alive, aromatic,
Everything tells a story,
As veins pulsate with crimson life.

Eyes and moist lips,
Passageways to the soul,
Looking here, looking around,
Licked, bitten and blinked,
Fingers cut, bleeding,
Expressions like black rose petals,
Lost in an abode of water, of tears,
A spirit haunts my tortured orange lips,
And my scarlet violet stained soul, shouts to the stars.

Around everywhere people travelling,
Migration and movement wherever I look,
Diaspora of breath,
Lost in sublimity and contemplation,
I try to think of nothing,
Silence,

…………………………(Sounds consume me everywhere)

I try to empty my mind, to stop the whirl,
The cacophony of coloured sound.

Flocks of violet dreams gather above me,
Folded into darkness divine,
How can I empty what is?
What simply exists by its own onomatopoeic design?
How can I imagine nothingness?
Silence,
The stillness at the heart of my susurrus soul,
There are just so many faces,
So much blood, sweat, beauty, suffering and exquisite pain.

I bow my head and stand still.

6/10/10