the arms are
stretched
hold me
great morning
the light is pure
the doors are open
my rectangles are artificial
your dimension has room
for one more Quixote
charge!
towards the white
puff of atoms
slow and immature
middle dark hour
I am the drunk
in your scorpion arms
let me sleep
in the absence
of all
purpose.
Beyond Language 
You’ve been working up a storm, Pablo.
And this one is fantastically wild!
I could use a hug, myself.
A drunk rampage last night. Not too hung over today tho.
We all need one dude, be it human or other.
Take care, enjoy your Sunday