my cup runneth over with emotion
as I realize myself to be a fountain
where pour becomes the viscosity of caring
and my liquidity is but empathy amassed in waiting
cup-sense was so steadfast selfish
in version, vision and desire
it was an integrity born out of barrenness
as if for momentary mental boredom to fill
my cup runneth over
out of my eyes, fluidly comes out of my heart
the sun comes up now through me from within
now, no days without touch, pour and glistening
where there was weep, is now turned into wine
no surface as separate selves, are any more a pleasure
the spring of being emerges from within us
where like attracting like, now has a way of means
my cup runneth over
as the closet of small and the wardrobe of appearance,
have both been abandoned by this overflow
love, the label, was done as if the nuisance of photoshop
but for right here, there is no ink, oils, or acrylics for
this
no canvass of impressions to thoughtfully embrace
communication offers but stages in metamorphosis
conveyance lives my emotions as high notes to sing . . .
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