Summer Fever

The young ladies who are so true,
their eyes do dance under the summer lights,
they are more beautiful than any person known.

There are those who walk with blonde hair,
there are those who are beautiful to behold, but
what lies behind them is seduction,
being loved, watched, and the excitement of getting high on themselves...

the truly beautiful shine, glow
and gossamer,
they share their radiance and their light,
holding glances and holding hands,
their eyes have opened,
their masks of sorrow are dropped...
sometimes i want to speak to them
sometimes i want to apologize to them...
sometimes like a bodhissattva, i want to love them
until all the lights turn on
the concentric glowing of the soul...
superego, ego, alterego, id, anime, animus, libido,
the lights shines through and through
until they close in logical unity.

the young ladies of avignon, they are pristine souls, they are
afraid of a terrible adulthood
where the butterflies roam.

breathes are like kisses,
healing to healing
their essences, their souls, their minds...

these woman are marvelously complex,
hearing the sound of the four winds...