everyday is like sunday

2004-07-21, 10:29 p.m.

locked away are dreams and these are the dreams that stick to my unflinching eyelids when i cant sleep. straight line of white, pure edges blend into a deep black line that cuts down into the criss-cross pattern of frayed purple cotton. surrounding speckles of peach colored curve, rounding away once again, deep into the solid purple that began to fade years ago when the small threads became unraveled.

through amber clouds -as thick and as transient as the clouds above the hills at 5 a.m.- is a piercing, light silver encompassing the shimmering light that floods through the window blinds. i want to stay awake, staring and making silly little movies where the birds learn to swim and rebel, living on the ocean floor. i want to ask silly questions for which the answers are totally irrlavent; being correct gets you nowhere when your feet dont move and your lips are locked and sealed with no tresspassing tape

elevation takes all of these weeks into the air, leaving sundays cloudy and gray.

time passes quietly through window cracks and it gives my eyes the weight they need for sleep. good night, for once i am asleep before the birds wake to the marbled skies of dawn.