It’s a good morning.
Sweeps in as a million butterfly fixtures.
Smiles like a totalitarian love elixir.
The potion of trust, calm and soothing.
A palm of antiquity, suave, alluring.
Devil may care, it’s you I’m charming.
Heartbeats and warm blood.
Heat spots, seeing red dots, the butterflies won’t stop and it’s a good morning.
36 degrees outside and you’re all running rampant and agile at a million miles inside my mind.
Don’t do this, I’m falling, the nothing is calling.
A corrupt void with no warning.
HoHoHo because Christmas is coming on a bad summer morning.
© G.P Williamson 2018 < hit for Instagram.