Indeed I can dear Bonsai,
as I perceived the stones
cry out at the urging of my
Gamma Rainbows.
Quarking, throbbing, as the
fluctuating spectrum of a
dying pulsar about to climax.
And then the candle starlight
of a distant newborn Sun,
a trillion miles away,
burns with magnetic attraction,
an urging that fragments its energy
in panchromatic orgasms
of kaleidoscopic joy.
Oh that this Quasar in my heart,
would beat this way and that
now red now blue as I lean, and
slowly turn to your perspective.
Do you see my true colors?
The frequency of your words
falls with the light of the spectrum
and fades. Are you there, polarized?
Are you besmirched by the watery
depths that denigrate this
inequivalence of colour?
