Poems from kumabooth

kumabooth's picture
All is one whole, and all is a miracle, so love yourself.
Sometimes I force my eyes andheart to flit as one, seeing the steel stone mortarwood of these monoliths standingin the soil as not parts...
 Gentile rustling sound ever clean,sleep-warmth mustering themuse in me,hands shown in prominent bone comefrom those mountains of cotton...
There is a crossbar over yourwooded grace,it is the dripping black comfort ofindifference.
The garden of you sprouts endlessly into the blue,how am I the only one to notice?Your glass shards speack hues into new life's pillars.
The sands whisper,come to our tall pillars,our valleys and plateaus,a speck encompassingthe entirety of everything,come tosleep.