Waterfire

I fell, following a bubble whose surface was more than all of everything; mirrors of modulations. It shone like waters living and divine. We fell, following the troubles whose faces seemed to become places, moments. We followed the falling faces into their trace, racing down along the mesas, the roads ran wild, spun, collapsed, turned into torrents of waters; we roared like time’s perfect lion. Our gold turning red in time. I fell, following a beauty whose impossible sphere was the intelligence of beyond, and there we fell, together, beyond, into the bubble, following troubles, whose faces became people, traces of duration writ in blood and adoration. Following warbles and squeaks. We fell to love’s dear driven breathing. And war, and fear, and all kind feeling. Following the changing sphere whose voices angels flee. I fell.