it is without form, yet
swirls in and out with my breath,
integrated in my eternal everything.
born from this warm soil
lacks any permanence to hang on to,
yet is infinatly whole
in it's thousand pieces.
i scour a hundred years of dictionaries,
a million minds,
i find adoration,
i'll be the junky,
passed out in the dirty corner,
furiously hungry for your smile.