Dancing With Gods

This is form my private collection

Dancing with Gods

Eyes fixed on flames

Atop glaring rods

Hard and cold in their faux crystal plots

 

At one to the murmur

Passing from heart to tounge-tip

Slicing the silence

Being built upon ruckus

 

Time passes and he sits

Wishes filling those murmuring lips

Blanketed-blacked-baged even

 under elaborate mantras and psychotic tricks

that no fool would dare trip over the loops in it

 

only letting the mind follow

breath to breath beyond dancing flames

to a dance of gods behind blood n’ bone softness.