The Element's Senses

The fire smells like sizzled air
with only the slightest memory of a wood
(from a desk, maybe).

It is waiting to swallow everything up
though it appears innocent,
even stationary.

But in the core of it's spheres,
fire burns itself.
A sad and lonely masochist.
The fire smells like tired air and worn pleasure.



The wind looks like wispy feathers
forever moving with themselves
like the sugar fairies  that dance ballet through
the blue-tinted woods.

 They slip along the air,
high above the Eiffel tower they don't see.

The wind is elegant,
wrapped in it's own serenity.

Dainty, curved airways and whispery music.

The wind appears everywhere,
blioowing over familiar hills.

The Earth sounds like wonders,
hidden exotic birds that dream all day and
all night.
Hidden, but open to the world it doesn't know.
To itself.

It never cries because it never notices the pain we inflict upon it.

It snores peacefully in the sun's charm.

The Earth sounds slow
as a Lemur's day.


The rain tastes of all natural essences.
A drop of a river someone never cared to look for.
A leaf it ran off, perhaps in your front yard.
The rain tastes of a beautiful belly when the clouds are noisy.
When the night is hot. 

The rains tastes.