wicker baskets

positioned precariously at the edge of a bluff

like the skulls of children

(full of apples and oranges)

spilling forth into the ocean

mixing to create a fruit soup of sorts


the amalgamation

of sucrose and saltwater

makes one's mouth begin to water

and saliva drips from the lips


In the future

there only exists the culmination of


that form new events

which too shall be culminated


circles we shall talk and circles we shall live

circle round the heavens

unleash the clouds

and whistle down the rain



dripping like salty years into the sea

filling the world to its brim with beautiful blue

the blue of all time and its unfortunate irrelevancy

a bittersweet blue of sadness

and the promise of a continuous unknown



the virgin cries for experience


is true enlightenment in our liquid world? 


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