syntax and semantics

to make full your one life - overflowing like how a sunrise spills across an ocean, the world offers a wealth of empty glass, and watches on as you pour light like a spring creek laughs Romantic, piano melodic and movement effortless, like love knows the way out and through you intuitively, bright and easy like it's a competition already won/ never a race/ and always time to pause, enjoy the view like it's the last chance seeing it as this you as the day(s) turn, change like a riot rich with colour, bursting beautiful like this life you've created, bold and ever beginning

can we have feelings about triangles? how close need corners cut, to move one to the point, being inherently geometric - a sense of shape calculated in space, as lines lean away from one and towards another \ sharp always yet sometimes never touching - in separation, that distinction, perhaps an answer in the almost (maybe solving for distance), but when bounds are fixed, and aren't we? all limited, little room left for softness and lacking dimension at first glance, then can we even have feelings / are we still trying?

Geese fly low, heavy with infatuation / I'm azure horizon (light).

Friday settles like a bad joke - the breakfast crowd chuckles politely in the trees blushing premature, optimistic in the frost ; change is a coy lover, murmuring encouragement while keeping three steps ahead. Almost in reach, but sometimes laughter is all we can manage with time souring stagnant, our bellies full of gas and temptation. Can't say we've lost our humors, thrown sideways as the world spins, but it's bloody hard to find that balance.

a thump then frenzied beating. there's nothing keeping this hammering heart from soaring but an invisible force, solid enough to bruise, bleeding internal - a mortal wound - we'll all die anyway, some staring at the sky / eyes open like a stolen kiss, a secret - can't be kept when the body sings confessions so loud it echoes; in another life I would be kneeling. if this were real, we'd speak the same language, I could wrap my mind around the feel of your tongue, the pressing of lips together, grasp the nuance of falling breath and silence the space creates an illusion of distance, I lose myself in perspective without trying - everything converges towards a vanishing point I'll never reach, the future disappearing before me. might be love on the horizon, enjoy a world tinted in gauzy warmth before it fades. time flickers on and it's just my reflection in the glass.