There is the head
With thoughts that churn
This world turning, spinning.
All.
Everything .
Thoughts.
Feelings .
Regurgitation and recycled meanings
No morning will ever exist that I don’t wake into it
Thinking
And feeling
Vibrating butterfly wings
momentarily beating against the walls of my existence
Yet|and |but |and I
The sun warms my wings
Breath turns to steam
I see
beneath all
Love
*and nothing else really matters.
