sleeptyper

everyone looks
they peer through the smoky glare
looking for the life in the depths
plants rooted deep below
yet flowing back and forth
moving, bending, and lilting
dancing around to keep their fit
pushing back toward the surface
sometimes, the will is met
a game is played
continuous reflections of the soul
in the exchange of a glance

I believe in a thing called love, just listen to the rhythym of my heart.