Here lay violets in a hawk-face celebration that gawks out of my window. An assurance lay nearby, ‘Everything’s going to be alright’ And I headed out with a crescent-shaped smile, and a gorge in my eyes, to collect the blaze of lips shutter in a rose-colored brain. All the burning idleness, recalled in passionate wind. The day lay at the center of the galaxy, speckled in children’s scream, and it floated away at the tap of the chest, beating in advanced laughter of the sad, sad, unforgiving weather.
Night was an exploration, that searched for a steering wheel, to trundle in the dregs of a silver memory, bathing in suntan-daydream swimsuits. And a wobbly pedestal arrested me in its comfortable clutch, I placed a hand over another hand, and my legs crawled toward the accelerator, building up force, slower, slower still. I flew deep into the night.
The wind made walls that closed in, an aviary of chirping colors, changing my head to my hands, charging my nose with mawkish wetness. And the brick laden streets were snapshots of an ancient, emptying heat that was breeding in long, blonde fields of what could have been, what I believe should have been. If only I was in a standstill in a stranger land, I would collapse. But I’m still here, nails sunk into the leather covers, and fixing the chains of my seat-belt, always looking out at the rain.
“Come, stare its legs off, and wear it down in a spiral, hungering its beauty”