in every tree dwells a story
that incinerates the ground.
in every blur to perfection
twirl one thousand tessellations.
from every filigree of light
surges the breath of integration.
in every assymetrical shape
hides a cryptic geometry.
in me arises a sentient air
that knows every secret.
my heart craves what it craves
without a care for who’s laughing.
i am not riddle.
i am not enigma.
i am not allegory.
no.
i am not burning bush,
but the conscious flow of water.
