spill it

all days, near bliss,
and nearly every moment a famously
forgotten reason to find a smile,
one short rainstorm of hope and pain before
bright afternoon times of aged jungle
growing becomes a mighty blue autumn compared to
the first bursting upwards that fate and life
reveals, now I can feel this, our waiting
is lovely remembering and determined anticipation,
that searching for a story told, a story old,
an underneath, hidden type of motive never shown,
a place of peace not my own, a land
grown in a place we may hide,
a bland bonding experience that you make
more fun, oh happy night what porch did you
crawl under when venus rose? I will put out the
fire, I will give information, I have you behind my eyes,
there will be a meeting place, I cry and
rave and think of you, I have your mind in
a way that I thought I never would,
I need your rain


About jaybeasley2

a writer, a painter, a poet, a wordsmith
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