Introvert's Paradise Returns

There are moments where the black pastel stains the web
of my thumb and index
and I look at it with reverence
There are things that lie unnoticed and unacknowledged

This image rest so comfortably on my conscious
and never removes itself no matter
where I shift my eyes

How could something so imprisoned by the atmosphere
undergo such a mercurial ascension?
You must waver between haste and awareness
and besiege the realm of the Most High

The Most Fearless and dissociated
Believe with seemingly no apprehension
and settle into it without conformity

This stain, like sparked veins
and this black like the void between
the open cracks in the drywall
Even the un-brushed cobwebs cast majesty onto
the crowded corners

Dancing shadows which are the most jovial
when wind enters their chimerical broncials
In and out, Earth breathes into my room
as it pores your scent onto saturated grass blades

Vines grow rapidly in sync with the
hemorrhaging
of your imagination