Cactus Soul's addiction-ary.

Chill between the thighs,

the flies of monsoon soul,

the still water bubbles the pan -

mother natures cooking -

ah! till time go, the trees of

eyes are looking.

Hi guys, i feel as if i have lost contact with all of you, so hello! Hey hey hey hey, ho ho ho ho, nameste nameste nameste!!!

The trees droop like arms,

upon still water. lily pads palms,

the flies the monsoon of soul +

smudged surface is clarative thought.

My heart holds this in the shade.

My eyes a’ closing,

The doors left ajar -

thats my breast,

that cries, a’ dozing far

from real rest.

You and the baby wait. But the carriage missed.

Twisted limbs dormant. Lap-sed in the loam n’

Slipped down the slide n’ hit water like a fist.

Nature thought the fun. And then sent them home.

Amidst trees I am carving

your spine.

  + Spinning the ground -

the leaves cutting the sound.

                       of your wine.

Pouring is the liquid, and the air…

              drowned.

Leaves dripping,

     upon the pains.

Floor sipping,

             its remains.

this field.

all my heart could ever yield.

when flowers starts a blowing,

and dust starts a showing,

i loose all that once appealed.

Shrines shudder your mouth awake,

whispering whimpering the air,

to heart and making it ache, break

ing.

   + blows the dust away.

The water waits - its lying still.

whispering whimpers silent. Until -

the river falls, it starts to wake -

sleepy eyed. at ripples starting to quake.

Across the river,

I see rocks that looks like people,

-   the silhouettes, of my regrets,

but oh! Aren’t they so beautiful?

Ah! Sweet sweet pettled bath,

Blood boiling whenever you laugh,

Amidst the grass, glazing sun today -

My eyes graze at your play - water

flowers brush, clouds segragate,

My heart I leave an open gate,

to the rosey feild - my cheek,

everytime you breath in to speak

Chaos, the abyss,

of my mind,

i attempt and remiss,

to fathom of the kind.

And the present,

from the mist,

is the only thing to find.

Your thoughts thrust out the cave,

to others you die in heat, a knave,

but only you can see the sun.

You shelter branches in leaves, you tree!

A sheild to your pusillanimousity,

and when they wet, then dry, then fall,

They will not grow back in April Fool!