this kernel

​a canopy of
orange pinks sparks 
primavernal motifs

there are those
nights you arrive 
in my dreams

only my human
self-denial will
deny this 

I find verses
to voice so you will
stay a while  

how genius of you
to visit like this
it’s true

not like that
inhuman urge
that destroys

our Sphinx
guardian of their
validations

as I write you
it kills me how 
quickly a sun moves

I figure the gods
they are moving it
fueling its hurry

they do this to me
craving these nectars
nestled within

they miss me too much 
this is their way
pulling me to them

thus teaching me
how selfish I can be
like they are

if it can be 
thought whatever
it must be 

mine by design
by how I'm inclined
by my veritable shine