and especially, i want to fade into places/spaces/drop-cloth universes where your words are everything and i want to hum along with the (distant) piano of your voice while fragmented light falls through covers over my head (to keep out the monster from underneath my bed)/ the weave smells like lavender and i think i’ll sleep away the day so i can wake up within blazing blue jazz-resounding mo(u)rnings that render my mind in t-e-c-h-n-i-c-o-l-o-u-r so bright it feels like being scalded by summer storms that ripple (shake&quiver) the pools where -once upon a (rainy) Winter- it (that wild-wild wind tossed afternoon) collected in the foot-prints we left behind - - - this is for me so i won’t ever forget to look up into skies at the flutter of even the flightiest of bird(ish) wings