Everything is mounting.
Everything is rising,
arching to a composition,
or bridging to another.
Clays molding into shapes,
their hanker fountain into arts,
forming,
dancing, creating
bricks by bricks,
elevating into the architectural marvels,
searching for form
in formless,
searching for outlines
in lines.
adobes metamorphosing to figures and figurines,
greens
to colours, tastes, aromas.
water turning to springs,
springs into rivers,
rivers into the whorls of rains and rainbows,
shadows into the night,
nights bursting into twilights,
twilights into blooming dawns,
dawns into the breakfast of your breasts,
nipple of gardenias,
infusing my mornings' cups
with fragrance and whiteness,
pillows, brimful of swans,
brimful of womanhood,
brimful of being belonged!
Mornings emerge,
sunk
in the dews of your orange blossoms,
your scent.
Whiteness
migrating from snow
to efflorescence.
