Grimoire

Stoned and pressed together under the over cast sky
I couldn't tell whether that
heart beat I was feeling was yours or mine

inside the air and soft rock's moss manuscript
of moisture manipulative with hold of our contour
capsize looking glass your dark eyes beyond mine
see the silver clouds far past the bottom grifting
grimoire over cast glinting glossy with the tree bodies
the monument of a waxingly waneful moment moves so fast

I literally lose track of where I end and where you begin
a packed bowls full and the last drop of resin
the side of a mirror the skies edges lack
a depth like sound my held breath reacts
four mouths fall beat in time...bound
Who's pulse is that?

...whoa.