Jubilantly Interfacing With The Gravitational Waves Of Her Holy Sunspire

1.
Exquisite exhalations
smash viciously against us
like wave after wave of ravenous,
jailbreaking, thunderhearted Tsunamis

like chain lightning lighting up a sky with asteroidal ferocity,
impact events cutting into our skin with the harshness
of nature’s crimson sabre,
fangs sunk deeply into the hilt of this dirty poet’s cauldron-bladed heart.

Oh,
my darling soulhacker extraordinaire,
how is it that a single smooth whisper
from your sultry ambrosial voice
leaves me eternally corrupted by your infiltrating loveware?

A sudden supernova-fist strike,
a riot of holographic zeroes and ones,
effortlessly blooming across the digital landscape.

2.
Emaciated without your touch,
I am a heart-pierced leaf,
quivering upon your replenishing wind,
spiralling ever downward
from the atmosphere’s pinnacle
as satellites and starships slide lazily by.

3.
Scintillating soul stalker,
say hello-sunrise as the rusted graveyard gates
begin to cast forth long fingers of eerie shadows,
like walking to school past a headstone from 1762.

I wake alone,
yet blanketed by boisterous quantum bubbles
that you have blown into existence
like you were the queen of plastic and soap,
mistress of the playground multiverse,
creator and destructor,
hanging kaleidoscopically
from cosmic monkey bars
like you were born to do it.

And my eyes die like genocide
when I see your ostensibly human face,
which my heart knows is the most gorgeous lie,
for you make this mere mortal pity angels,
because you are somehow more,
blessed with the undiscovered physics of unification,
your skin still shimmering with the cosmic microwave radiation,
the tree rings of the infant cosmos swirling magnificently
around your geometrically gyrating hips.