Clear as an ocean from above;

We, the sailing seas of disconected patterns,

contorting together like loose phone cords.

Intertwining vines following up our mangled spines.

Plugged centeral into the many nuclei,

sent by a shattering gunpowder,

Travels each sparking flame within us.

Alight in each of them.

In their bantu knots and pony tails, aflame,

held by heart stringed hair ties.

Woven fibers wrapped in double helixes.

A constant push and pull of opposing polar fields.

Together resisting the magnetic draw,

in the name of one soul and individuality.

Authenticity rises along the moon,

as rationed communion sets it in stone.

Our beating eyes canvas each inner landscape,

piercing the hot deserted fabric.

Soppy guilt drapes over each willing participant,

left to roam in the filthy streets.

Stomachs full of repenting bees,

secure in their stingers,

built to submit,

We all return to the soil from which we sprouted.