He sleeps an incurable dream.
She walked beneath my shoulders.
He reads with interest.
She applies with moisture.
He chews with force.
Sleepy one wakes, moves. Supposedly. He. Looks beyond pitch. Black. Lenses. I cannot see with certainty, I will now not sink alone.
We dig and search. Similar pockets, we grab-each. A book. Matches. Awe. Orange. Nothing to read and cannot light. Marlboros, he inspects from another lintless pocket. Decadent in denim, crossed-legged and momentarily arms to match. In turquoise, like the iridescence of a fly's eye..bugged out from another night. Hidden. Not so much his pleasure on this lambent day.
Lights in the sky-Knitted at the wrists. Shielded.I want to know if he is in my head as he is my pockets.
Does he want to share a square?
Colorful companion and an orchid diagonal.. I will never know the answer...
and I think it may be better that way.
About Me
- -jAm
- I'm a beginner blogger.. just rambling, sharing.- a peek through my eye, and in between my ears... in the midst of connection, reflection. For now, I focus on my journeys, a jump from here to there..and anything else that creeps into the space of my experience.
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