The sculptured gaze from eyes ushered by the love of the earth once abundant with expression. Delivered from the throat of the one casting his marble legend in the slabs of burnt orange, against the backdrop of an indigo sunset. Or, maybe sleeping in a cloud's mystery on top of the highest concept. Taste is frozen. Speech is crippled a new, vantage point emerging.
Hearing is extinguished.
The heights are awesome now. Smell is backstage brewing a froth of crystal water appearing. Sight is riding in the crest of the Lava Lamp tonight, into its eternity. The ocean with mouth open hands caressing the very heart and center of it, and making you feel born again. The night, a sapphire gem with balmy hues, the smell of the age of time with her tropical perfume dispensed lightly in pivotal portrayals.