Breath slipping gratefully away I slip out of the day my pen glides like I have some swaggering tail ends to my means figured out I'm sand box plotting the little league games- vindictive and victorious, a competitive brute. Bruised daisies sniffing underneath nose tips like itching dresses in white floral lace I wait for myself to pass into a new realm of closed mouths and legs. I snake sneer at the bedside table adorned with rose book red and green, yellow print, fatigued and sweating answers out of my palms fingernails claw at the truth- I’ll stay twirling inside teacups for days, then peer out realizing nuts bolts soldered plates, a small world contained thank you orange vest like yellow jacket concerto under some candy man who shocks me out of my hole. I’ll run through the **** stained grass like an ungrateful child to the white fence caging the Ferris wheel another attraction buttery and cotton soft I lie down under stars feel something unfamiliar and incommunicable open mouth push out a short breath- wuh- feels like bathing in invisible truth certain for mystery and then it dissipates and I jump back into the prize box widening and shrinking at the semi-conscious crane. Place my cavernous eye against the glass and everyone hides. Maybe one day I’ll taste the rain acid-less in a dream and awake in damp grass our hair intermingling and find some constancy in the crease of your eyelid, eyelashes brushing I want to believe we can make love sparks that never die pierce the belly of Cetus exploding Zeta and dusting the Earthlings tingling necklines pull us all gently inward into each other into ourselves into a new plane of existing where we don’t long for slumber and sweet plum trees because we taste the spirit’s tongue in every waking hour.