Thought-Museum

Play the trombone, love: and we laughed—a blue ribbon.
Such kindness—the harp of hearts; but it burns to love. I
Imagine such tears: to read so much love: to feel so much
Love: to die so much love. Every portrait, a ‘membrance;
And every flute, an angel.  A saxophone conjures the blues;
And a pipe organ, conjures a Bible. Such breadnut and
Wine: and such walnuts and cherries. My soul longs for
Sherbet and green apples. Such a memory—so visceral. I
Seize a purple sky; and trek a grey cloud; and there she
Stands: waving a finger. So much to live; and so little to
Die. Butter nut, my love: and we cried—a red ribbon. Such
Passion, a fever numb; and coffee beans, a cup of speed.
We nibbled dreams, a taste of rum; and baked bread, a cup
Of tea; plus imagine, the sweetest grains.