Fizzy earth drowns and gorges me
as I collapse on new green grass.
The stars are sleeping bees in limbo
and the emptiness between them
is a lovely quilted window.
My heartbeat's grafted on your scratchy skin
and your slow growth comforts my lungs.
Space has crowned me queen
along with every other peeping violet
and stunning blade of green.
Moments escape reality
as I tread on your hospitality;
agree with me, just for a while,
and the stars in your eyes
will twinkle--false crocodile.
To both be so full of shallow
and overflowing with hollow air;
you can't help but think 'useless,'
and I'd halfway agree if my heart
wasn't making room for tripling kindness.
We'll twirl dandelion chains,
talk of beauty and vain glory,
but your open door is rarely
your only barrier, and the tea granted
has been steeped just barely.
Warm hospitality cures me
of my scuba-diving mind.
Fishy thoughts drawn back to the light
(though rainbow-hued by nature)
no longer have a current to fight.