Simple words and thoughts, let’s keep it here. Don’t let the air escape.

Let’s bottle up the borders – keep the gods and science out.

No psychology. Let lovers leave. Let outer space recede.

For in this bottled moment no complexity’s allowed.

A flower’s just a flower, made of color and of touch.

The breeze is just us breathing-in this moment that we’ve trapped.

The sound is turning down. Our sense of syncope’s enough

for us to understand the words and thoughts our feelings lack.

No such thing as pain or broken hearts. No such abstraction here.

No heaviness. Just levity. Inflate and drift away.

Bottled in the buoyancy of blankness, floating on the sea

and tidal waves of all excessiveness that we’ve escaped.

Ahh, the peace in capturing the simpleness of shutting down.

From rapid static, synapse turn to underhanded catch.

Slowly, slower, goes the mind. No such hurry. No such time.

Past becomes unmemorized. Here, nothing has to last.

Inside this space it’s easy, lose the meanings, let the borders bend

up and round the  breathing of our focus getting lost.

Let’s sit still and let’s exist. No questions and no answers, just

bottled-up inside the beauty of our simple thoughts.