Stoned Love

Splintered light,
fractured sound,
spastic limbs.
I must be stoned.

Strange then
that my thoughts
are crystal clear,
in this effervescent space

where every face
is a work of perfection
an angels mask
covering crude humanity,

with love streaming
from every pore,
washing away the pain
and drowning me in joy.

How I wish this was home.