Sunday, March 29, 2009

Quiero sus manos en mi piel.

It's that second in time, when that one grain of sand through the hourglass, the last little one...
Your helium mind
your swimming vision
you're pushed in, you can almost feel large invisible hands pressing.
Time is slow and thick, like your thoughts
that no longer matter

that never really did
they just hold you back
so just letting it go and
smiling back feels
like opening roses
to soft rain
and summer warmth.
When cool moist air
can refresh and not dampen
and cigarette smoke
has never swirled and dispersed so easily
lazily lingering and waltzing under parking lot lights.
When asphalt isn't industrial and imprisoning

just a track for the magic carpet ride
to anywhere.
Because I'll go anywhere.
My life is a song lyric
on this skipping cd
with all the rushing of breaths and lips and skin.
It's anxious-excited

open and green
where five letter words are more important than four.
Trust and heart, are given both with a nod
and that last grain of sand is lost with the rest.

We live fast dream big laugh endlessly but go slow,
Because I'm scared too.
I'M TALKING CRAZY AND HAZY LOW AND SLOW AND I DON'T CARE IT'S SUNDAY.


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