She motioned to the phone
and it manifested
in her motherly palm.
At 11:31 a.m. a sweet
sobering vibrancy swarmed
her pale skin, turning follicles
into dancing companions.
She lifted her thumb and
pushed down on numbers
that related to letters;
many letters to one
number.
This transmutation was
and was not
a simple mediation of emotional
exchange to a soldier on a symbiotic
longing journey.
She was feeling
(a cognizant display of emotional
recognition, originating
from the pre-frontal cortex)
a physical reverberation for life.
bA Bah ba bahH.. WHo Loves THE Sun?
NOt juST aNYone
What glistens from our reality
is not a picture in a frame
but moments of confident love,
that give assurance that the only
peaceful substance is derived
from an appreciation
in the present.
