san diego, spun like thread

california, baked to the crust — filled with golden momentum and quarried secrets — captured in the every word, the sing-song bird, the querying lemon tree – the little reaching sky blazing in to a new day – the hills filled with their own wilderness, the ocean gulping down the haze of the world spun like thread — no one’s everything has ever wandered deeper into the sun / no stream of daylight has ever passed through my heart like this oxygen of motion /

bubble hills – you perch me a top the golden glow, the flippant hum of the ocean waves, the current of the current capture of the sky — the cloud fervor murmuring, the wash of pine and prickled leaves peeling towards absolute blue, the dots and dashes of brilliant purple and indigo flower eyes peering up from sandcastle sidewalks,, the tunnel of rainbow-colored bricks leading to spanish rooftops – red-blooded and brick raftered, taffy curled edges and magic-filled ledges, the popped blush of plantlife, the flash of magic, of bliss // of the everything looking back at you

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s