Saturated

In the night, will I hoop into you, 

Or roll over you? 

Will I refrain, victim every time, 

Oh Powerful Dauntress to do my mass. 

Drunken spill-iards, 

Shade the cloud of a longing that has become saturated

With understanding to it's own light

And the shadow of it's existence. 

Nothing will make sense where things are let go, 

So go, 

Let go...

All over the place

, 

And sturdily.

In an ease of transmotion, 

The grace we sweep under the rug, 

or fain to break away in example of something truer; 

Like innocent grace.

And innocent succession. 

Submission. 

Disgrace. 

It is a line greyed, with grey entity; 

Loved over after a lifetime, 

And left floating, adrift, 

Amidst moonlight currents, 

And chanting seas, to a mapled time lapse recognition. 

So I...

Adrift 

To the enchanting rolling winds and float with hair in air

And hang suspended 

Hooping, hopping into time.

Vortex, after vortex, 

In saturated, 

Channeling 

Stream. 

As I am the current...

And the current is me, 

But then there is a body that is dancing, 

And I am that too...

All spilled. 

All over the place.