Saturday, July 31, 2010


Colors of trustworthy optimism run around before like painted bees inside the cone of a hive. All just waiting to be called.
They have been called, only one was chosen. Although those colors don't compliment the projected aura that loosely floats about.

She wasn't there, neither was he. I could see the sadness in her soul, a sight only visible to me, I'm sure. Knowing that she wouldn't weep until she was alone, I take a moment to cry for her in silence.

Her words roll off her tongue like erratic melody of the most beautiful song. So made mention in the silence that cotton tails come from their holes and squirrels from their trees to listen, hoping for a nut to fall...there were many (haha). But I gathered them up to make a necklace for her.

Someday I'll give it to her, but not today, definitely not tomorrow. Haven't found a suitable pendant yet. And she Loves pendants. I know this well.

Leaving the room. Been so good to not be noticed so far, knowing I just shouldn't be there. Amygdula so shot it's spinning sparks everywhere across the floor of my sub-conscious mind. Like a tree trunk pushing it's way into the center of my chest. But I tuned it out, to this. Her theme music today:

" Yellow streetlight, you illuminate the road so often traveled. In a dream life, I would silently observe your path to nowhere. And you're gonna light me up, in a way I could never explain.

Always letting go to leave you closer leaving. Doesn't mean that this is over. Don't forget about the things that make you feeeeeeel FREEEEE!

I would Love you Monday, thru to Sunday. If you're a non believer. Take me for an open-minded soldier, if you're a non believer.

Right here some...." (all so she doesn't get confused ;) ya know)

And on with that. Never ceasing, 'til my throat begins to bleed. Range is so a matter of perspective. To an exponent of some sort. And my perspective is getting high on my minds constant and ever flowing supply of serum that makes everything here taste good. And I can't find the petcock. Took it out when she left the first time and put it somewhere I knew I'd never find it.

You have fun, my Love. You know I'd be the only other one not drunk, cleaning 1/2 the mess at least. Sharing always. Care about you that much...always!

Til our next meeting. Arms open, facing the sound of that band of horses.

1 comment:

Spiky Zora Jones said...

wha-hey...Yippeeeeee1 I can comment. hey there are some pretty cool peeps in my will like them, check some of them out...indi writes some cool poetry. you know my girl haven does too. anyway some I'm sure would totally love to read you and now I'm sure they will be able to comment.

I think you write some reat stuff. i like the use of words. Your pieces make the meaning of each post...mean something differently to each person...I think that is great. It's hard to do that.

later sweetie.