An hypothesis

There’s moisture, seems to be the start of the day, seems to be it was made elemental, my desire real, drawn from this, seems I’m flesh, spirit hanging like a lemon in Nature’s shared bough

I’ve been drawing up questions, I’ve many, since yesterday I saw Her, tho was it you? I don’t have a clue, I’ll hypothesise it’s true

Like stars forming inside, thought up and hypothesised,

The woman I fantasise, does something to me, it’s called

Loving her, every single fault and more, and everything I do know,

As if around her, the elements were spiritualised, my spirit

Drawn forth into flesh to meet her eyes, and there set, forever,

As if the universe revolved around her, everywhere,

Moisture: could it be rain coming this morning? I dont know

And in rain, becoming tangible, the elements are materialised,

Elements drawn up in celestial matter, nebula,

In celestial light, Reality – spirit, we call it, calls at nature’s

Window, bring your torch, moon! Drawn from the nebula,

Her bright face, yesterday, eyes, a little smile, plucked my spirit

Into the celestial realm, light, transfigured, again into desire of Flesh could it be you who drew my spirit? How was it you?

Why does a woman like you disguise in illusion, reveal in

Clothed moonlight? To me, as you appear, so beautiful, I’m

Dreaming at night? Like a vision, in make-up, celestial, divine?

I believe it was you, why is it not real, and why cannot I hold you?

Would the mad hatter agree with me, and bring you to me, g,

This morning, in the tangible air! In blessed elemental

Spirit, in carnal, holy desire, how come into my world of spirit?

A world which says I’m in unreality, because of you?

I say, there’s no conclusive evidence for any of this,

We all just share reality, all of us, and I love you, the girl yesterday,

Must be you, g, I believe, do you believe, I’m for real?

Do you see the moisture, believe it true? Do you believe I exist, not just part of your imagination, too? And as I consider, draw questions about you, my muse, questions about life, and whether it will rain, and whether it‘ll bring you, seem strung high in heavenly realms