in that place

2003-04-03, 11:33 p.m.

it must have styrofoam birds so that you can watch the break into smaller bits of artificial nature.

And the cellaphane sky is there to package balck clouds shaped like teddy bears and pretty smiles;

a break in the clouds and the plastic shines a rainbow for one millionth of a second into her dimension.

Angelic tones of a winter rain are always an echo, the walls of a cluttered house make them desirable.

can the breaking twigs under your feet feel like they did on the tree? do they have the same leaves that made the tree so beautiful when you found it?

and they linger, the touches of spring in january, but they are like the winds and they last as long as a shot to the drinker. a head tilt then the tongue goes numb, only to wake up long enough to ask for another.

..

the waking reminders as yuo stagger to get up. a naked reflection against the velvet red and you are awake. once in a while it stands out from the automatic mind, her life is vague but so wonderful. he smiled for her in a dotted shade under the bridge under assumptions that wine was red and she was his. then in the seat of a august blur it became apparent, the gaps becoming large for a newly painted wall. in a soundless night the crash can come, a red candle can burn like some statue of blood and all that lives within myself.