Clocks.

We are turned by the
keys stuck in our backs that move
the cogs that move the world.
Swirling cogs, like clockwork,
steadfast with character.
A glowing sun of hearts coalesced
in pools of sweat, of perspiring the inspired.
Eyes the size of distant moons,
compasses to dreams
chugging engines; steam.
Matriarch: forest guides for our purist guise.
Awaiting the bloom, the ebb and flow
of time.
To ravish the old weathered ravines,
where countless men lay awake.
In dreams, caught up in clouds,
where no voice, let alone hers,
can reach.
Nevermind, the twinkle of eyes,
everglade diamonds,
coalesce, in time,
into dreams.

dance.

Tiny specks, sparks in synchrony.
On beats and off beats.
They flicker rhythmically together,
they flicker rhythmically apart.
Eclectic.
Blankets of white yellow filament glitter.
Sprinkled on each side.
Transporting to its twin.
Of cities saturated,
pregnant with light.

White noise stamps its angry feet.
And I know that if I strain I can just make out the dance of the fireflies and their own collective breath and breathing and living.
Inhale exhale.
Unhidden secrets for boat lovers and land dwellers.
Wax and wane.
Swell and burst.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.
Loops,
guarded by nightwatch.

The perks of.

Blurry eyes, not from the sleep.
Dreaming of monologues and rhetoric.
Coagulating into the deep.
Imprints of words overlapping, paralleled on retinas.
It's cathartic.
Other shoes.
And a coffee filter that drips life into your favourite mug.
Observing the colours of sound.
And all with a 'forged in your own name' feel about it.

We think in riddles.
Our thoughts are the ends,
figured out.

Giants.

Carving carnivorous colour.
I'll start with that.
Just an observer, but there's added fervour. Fever even.
I wondered where they kept all the big clocks,
if not inside.
Top hats off. Canes stationed.
Monacles on. We're indoors, so come on.
Attach a touch of the nonsensical, I presupposed, I supposed.
Small, little footsteps.
Smattering on the outside of your consciousness.
We're just ghosts in pensieves. A cheeky neighbour peeking fences.
We're just giants in pensieves.