Inspirational Organics (Whitman Poem)

Organically speaking, of course, I tell you my secrets.
Lying by the riverside with the sun on my skin.
Twirling fingers through water twisting daintily between smooth stones,
On its way to the sea.

I take the world to my heart and breathe you in.
Your essence binds me,
Holds me to myself,
As I rush recklessly on toward new ideas.
Inhaling the woodsy scent of your thoughts.

This is eternity.
This soft pressure in my skull that lays me back.
Back into pulsed memories heavy with the smell of your skin,
The exhalations of sighed breaths that play hide and seek with the shadows of trees in summertime.
Twisted fingers to wrap us in pure selfishness and make us whole.

The sycamores rustle and sweep the sky,
Raining pieces of their wisdom to catch in my hair.
The grass whispers secrets in my ears and the stream slips softly to the sea.