Undissolved
Embankmented on the mistscaped sand dune, the blood of I can't guess how many travelers and junkies pooled up beneath the blanket, everything starts to come apart: the tops of the trees, their branches, the birds, the hustler who conned me, the blades of grass, the pine needles, the rusty needles, the brown/black pond water, my cheap shoes, the piece of gum stuck to my cheap shoes, all of it loosely and inevitably flowing into molecular wave stretches beneath the endless pounding of the photons.
Only the clouds remain undissolved, but shifting, making love to each other and themselves; folds and billows submersing within each other and themselves.
I look across the blanket where my lover has found a very different cloud to fold and submerge her folds and billows into, and I realize I am not a cloud but like everything else...dissolving.
