I meet my breath on my way to unfolded metaphors and step down the stairs of lexical dissonance to fall right into the arms of my celestial muse. One fleeting glance of fate it takes to fly across the fringe of euphoria, oh, one kiss of karma to fall over the edge of melancholia.

What is it going to be tonight? Dying embers in the hearth or euphonous rainwater kissing my feet? Just a little closer to me, a little gentle and blue and fading so I can't tell the shape of lingering nostalgia apart from its sound anymore.

In the infinite span of a starry night, fleeting seconds kiss my skin and leave a trail of honey behind, a tinge of sheer sweetness bathing golden in the sunlight shower. And what do I do, darling? Oh I close my eyes and gulp my entire life in a little spoonful of honey, for when the muse gifts you from dusk to dawn, you never say no.