Delirious With Fuchsias In The Garden, Poem by Vincent Silvertop

From now on i go to Huma not the desert. Ihave roamed in deserts.

There were parts of me I didnt like, so i turnend into dust under your skirt, humbly serving your intrests.

Transcending, the parts of me, casting away myself, to the waves like hundreds and thousands on a vanila ice cream..

Contorting, the map was closed, mirrors set me free an ocean of images saved my innocence from the earth bound assasins.

Those who know the end.

My heart was open though and willing to accept love.

To purify myself for the garden.

Made by god not by me, perfect in his consciousness, T

For her in a feast of animals..

A dimension of utopia.