Scratching the graphite into the page. Stomping your soul into the earth. Dreaming your essence unto an universe of an unravelling infinite expansion of a helical dance. Driving your soul downwards and your essence upwards and outwards. Feeling energy surging from your fingers and into the day-dreams that soothe your wayward mind.
Lapping oceans clammer to hug the shore, “just one more inch,” she cries as she forcefully reaches to hug the earth she so desperately loves. Mother Earth crumbles unto the ocean floor circumventing her waves. Rains fall and mists away from broiled earth. Falling and rising; cooling and heating.
Purposeful desire aches in his soul as he holds tight to fortune’s cruel wheel, over which he has little control, but he still holds onto it desperately. Fortune spoke, one, two, three, four, five, six. Fortune speaks, but her voice is graveled from having, for so long, been engaged to the earth as she rolls onwards:
The body and mind and essence all unravel into different territories. Connected to the earth as she walks; sway, sway, sway, sway. His eyes draw her being into his being. Her love is hidden, far beneath six feet down, but much higher than heaven’s highest mount. When her heart is stirred, she feels her heart race from all its hidden places, and her head becomes light as euphoria overtakes her. Still carefully treading the road, wary of fortune’s lines, she closes her eyes as she breathes in hot, wet air. Her lungs are filled with heavy air, but she is not made bloated by it; instead, her lungs release breath by breath through her nose, ears, mouth, and eyes. Her lips give long-lasting kisses to dreams as thoughts pass by. Her eyes gently hug each vision as they hop away like young puppies in a field of daisies. Her own world is filled with feeling and heat and emotion and dreams, ever surrounding her being, ever clinging to her as burrs bite wild hair. The world shuts off, but remains. The world is her.
He cannot see what she sees, for it is the unseen. He cannot hear what she hears, for it is the unheard. But he breathes what she breathes as they breathe life into each other. He feels what she feels as they meet in space and time.
Words into being. Words blend thoughts and worlds as the graphite nestles into curves and lines of life and death. the muse breathes. the muse thinks. the muse be-mused. the muse is power. the muse is statuette. the muse blinks.
the muse sways as her body sings the melodic delirium she was lauded to whisper once more.
she is unto a world of her own. she feels the vibrations of the world below her and the sensation of the heavens and stars above. she feels the clouds of emotion and wonder and imagination and curiosity.
he knows not what to do.
she knows not of it.
whilst she regards the stars, and her mind amongst the stars; ad infinitum.