zusya (zusya) wrote in __amatory_verse,

stamped//it's been a while since ive posted..

The Beach From a Godhead

the land sings with the rhythm of a star

our blue jewel of life

it is our property

a song needn't be sound
where there is no sound

when one see beauty
there is music
when beauty is felt
there is music

music is metaphor

isn't that obvious?

is searching for a commonality
for all mankind
just a waste of time?

why do we even agree
to anything?

have you ever even wondered
how the world
as it is
came to be?

who am i?

i am someone else
in someone else's bed

these are not my clothes
or my hands and arms

i feel lighter
and i feel older





because? why.

a poetic fragment is pure thought

a complete(d) form is completely illusory
look at the edges of things
of ideas
look closer
and see how colors are oceans
thoughts are gases
in the sense that a gas
occupies the exact volume of its container

matter is a thought

the world is a thought
the world is
and we occupy its space

to simply discuss its music
would be a waste
and impossible

what is there that we all find beautiful?

it is half dark, the sun is setting
all of the lights in the room have been turned off
and it is comfortably warm
the bed's linens are tossed about
clothing is everywhere
the color of flesh and its intricate lines
the bare body of a lover
inviting, diabolical eyes glittering as there's hair
everywhere, the body, its nipples and bellybutton
there is a perfect highlight of the body's silhouette against the curtained window
knees and hip, feet and toes, the back of a thigh
pubic hair

just what is going on?
ive been told
in my life
to always answer questions
that you ask yourself...

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