The Sky Is Blue Because It Never Lies

soft spoken and silk bent, the brief breeze on a hilltop with Summer’s view.
the apples, radiant in the canopy; with all the ginger flint of red dustings with morning dew.
dense quiet is asprawl the terrain, as God’s mercy slaps the valley with a ton of stars
too ghostly to be headlights in a bucket of fiendish dark.
and too loved by me.
swollen in the fickle resolve of our notions, are edicts of return.
we re-clamor at the edge of a void that our mortality can never evade
and sleep, in the wide dismal with our perpetual larkings, swatting at rivers of discomplete
and swiving with sirens that bark neutral epiphanies
the size of the hole in our hearts.
gemstones are treacle when you get what you want, and it’s not what you need.
and the sky is blue because it never lies.