Amid the heat of the night, the city craze, and the pretty heights, he lay again….stargazing…..his brain surfing thru images of denim shorts, white shirt or a tee-shirt stitched with leather strands….in each synapse there was a sizzle.
The day had been okay….in the spell that lives life so intensely….just minutes before midnight, and hours after the sunset….He was willing to enjoy every minute of nightfall.
After it beset him to go under-cover, and hide behind a dreamy applause….Oh, the ways that can find you profoundly at the gates, and carry you to a bed, paint your eyes blue…educate you about the things that he never had to do…. He dreamt, and he slept sleeplessly, sharply turning, anticipating a point that would fix things.
It was an evening alone…..He sunk deep into the pillow, brooding darker….Concentrating on the pulse that travelled inward the flesh, divining the bones, and breathing angelic air into the nostrils….
Soon, his inevitable epiphany arose, much like most times…..and toward the cultic belief of healing, he focused his energy…and shook himself, gathering his feet in his hands…..Sitting upright…out of bed….swiveling in a bland office chair, and humming the national anthem.
It feels that isolation stems from the self alone…as the ponds of disappointment dip biscuits and pool their dirt onto the blackening….and perhaps the perpetuation is in every second, every moment…. there’s no escape….there’s nothing really….so he would have to try to make better things tomorrow, and feel better….loosen the ball and chain….and dangle freely….Awaiting winds to sway him across to a place of progress, and movement.