Olives fall softly on sunflower mouths
Brimming fields of golden ecstasy.

Sudden white flutter
through fields of shimmering mustard.

The smooth milk
secreted from a velvet nipple
gently floating down
chocolate vanilla faces.

Fragments of creamy canvas
scattered across the underbelly of preconception,
the smiling feet of innocence.

Lush,
fresh,
fragrant
honeysuckle fingers caressing your inner vision,
the inner breath
of humanity.

Red corridors of consciousness,
the elusive labyrinth of gardenia petals.

Tears
seeping through the cracks in the microkernel
that lights
the meandering surface of dark continuum,
the ebbing embers
of pale recollection.

The light,
the moon,
the tendrils,
the velvet-soaked milk
evaporating through honeycomb shells.

The palms,
the Krishnachuras,
the petals that wept bloody tears
cloaking the passions of civilization.

The eyes
that shone laughter
through cynical stagnation,
they fell
and bled
and died,
while giant, white magnolia blossoms
stretched their mighty limbs
and embraced the formidable sky.

She, who leapt across celandine meadows
He, the brimming face of golden ecstasy.


---Jib, 15 Nov 95