high

less minutes words tumble and fall: mouth? sealed.
Patterns, carpets woven in worship of colors wave through the air. Sound waves ebb in and out, an eternal sea. The flutes and chelli and guitars and the rhythm section. Bumping into my heart like accidental butterfly hicks. licks?
The night is young, i count three stars or four. A miriad of thoughts flash through my mind. I hear them talk and laugh and wonder how it comes that I am not reacting like them. I thought that we would laugh about the same stuff. But no, even now I think it is ridiculous and they sound like freaks, like vulptures trying to hide their skeleton faces in desruptive feathers, masks made out of fear.
I don't feel like sharing images of my mind but I want to make love to him at the magical bay. let the stars do the talking, raven in buttersoft nightsky air. listen talk to me i want to make love to you you to make love to me.
punishment, a little sly hello in the dark, haha, hoho what makes you happy?
Leaning back, the clouds writing songs into the sky.
let me kiss, kiss the sky. wickey wickey dah. rhythm alchemy.
A call from yonder far far away, I listen. Words reach through the dark and break through the walls, so thickened.
Pieces of childhood memories fall on the floor through this little crack here. An eternity forgives me again for misunderstanding.
I feel my back but I don't understand upside down. Lacking listening love. Thinking, constantly, about the kind of guy that I need now in my love. There is an elusive white shadow when I close my eye, doomed to only catch a glimpse out of the corner of the eye. I look high, high
up in the sky. Roosevelt Hotel. I remember when we sat there in another life time. New York passes my inner eye but I love the way you looked into my eye.

when my look could only tell. i fell. and you scream against the sky, the wind, the wall but words are torn up into word-rags and flutter around your head like bats at dusk or dawn.

I lean my head back and start to dream./ oh well