Sitting on the top of a mountain
Wrapped tightly in a blanket
As if it were another set of skin
Gazing upon the seemingly boundless view
Of clouds, hills, birds, trees, humanity
Taking it all in as if it were air for the eye
Focusing not on any specific detail, but a blur
Sensory overload in the most serene way
A smile slowly creeps from my mouth to my lips
As the beauty with no name and long hair
Floats delicately through the realm of imagination
A single thought flitting from neuron to neuron
It is only after this womanly visage passes
That I realise that I really do have
My head in the clouds
