I sit..

I sit in blades

of praying roses

blowing dandelions

coughing up fragile butterflies

I sit in a field

of crazy mushrooms

drenched in frenzy

biting off caterpillar heads

I sit at home

wholeheartedly in love

living contently

drinking coffee

I sit in bed

netted in darkness

living no dream

counting only fly shadows

I sit in dawn

tying singing birds

to fragile wrists

waning fear

I sit in day

watching trees expire

barking silently

in dead leaves unsatisfied crest

I sit in blush

romancing stars

gesturing white light

to strengthen regularity

I sit in poetry

of foggy thickness

reading words

from ones own endearing soul.