Where we meet

We meet at the event of us,

only to fall into the ambiance

of us forthcoming.

There are commingling thoughts

that are buoyant and frolic.

We are emotions

that swim in swirls and spins.

Our faces are with gestures

that wide-eyed surface

but cannot say the whole.

For the philosophy of fluidity

does not speak to

or respond with answers.

Our nervous systems exchange

in voluminous whispers

with simmers and glows.

We are taller than trees

to share the same breeze

as dialogue given and received.

We are bodies

in the hot hands of lucid minds.

Touch is that firestorm

as sizzling

made seemingly pleasant.

No story of us

catches up to now.

We are waterfalls of being

arching our backs

to spray volumes

inwardly all over.

We are everywhere within

and we take it everywhere

unassumingly with us

where ever we go.

We drink

what makes our tears sacred,

and then we are

the truth of oneness

without fanfare or arrival . . .