teal

by
As you glance toward a memories' hour,
you hear some weezery whispers coming
from the sun and stars. They seem to be
the gift of a charlatan with the audience
in a surplus of nothingness, well wrapped
in the ingenuity of a teal hue that breathes
and shines between the teeth of the moon.
Took just a jiff to catch you in joy's attire
as you glanced toward a memories' hour.

poetic audience

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ain't stopping

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mille fois

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i am the sky of the skies above all the skies, bearing the sun of the sun of all the suns, and the moon of the moon of all the moons i am the world of the worlds of all the worlds, bearing the star of the stars of all the stars, and the dream of the dream of all the dreams i am the wish of the wish of all the wishes, bearing the night of the night of all the nights, and the day of the days of all the days i am the love of the love of all the loves, bearing the color of the colors of all the colors, and the joy of the joys of all the joys i am the very best of the best of all the best, for i am the i of myself of all the i of the selves of i, crΓ¨me de la crΓ¨me of all the crΓ¨me de la crΓ¨me (je suis mille fois un trait distinctif  traduite), while a thousand times is not enough for what i am for any sky, any world, any wish, any love, inculcated
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by
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by
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by
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by
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by
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by
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