Let beauty influence the architecture of thought

She cried blasts toward him
Held her face kissed her beyond the clouds
Their own explosion

All of this dreaming came first with a silent knock upon the glass. At least one of the girls had pretended to. Three redheads pressed each other’s bodies up in the corner, huddling as if they were some team about to spring their paws across some morality clause.

Hot pink umbrella
Looks like dreams we are chasing
Futures exploding

It is simply now a choice to feel naked. She feels it’s appropriate now to undress for the public which will soon follow her lead. Into the night, they will tear apart the conventional moral creed with ritual dance steps resembling tiger speeds!

Streets are wet with tears
Lipstick guiding sister smiles
And she combs sadness

invitations on the silk sheets of evening
anxious to fold itself into letters of perfumed language
which absorb the night of its juices
leaving an imagination soaking wet