For how many days and how many nights are in the moment of a kiss?
There is a light bulb on the horizon screaming ****** ******.
An obsidian hammer exploding into licks of carnelian flame.
A war drum, it's hide cured from the skin of the desperate.
A humanoid figure crawling out of its ****-stained cage
smelling the slime of a new day.

Little boxes smashed to bits by the stamping foot of a child.
There is a wind blowing from the mouth of the bull.
A ring of fire burns red and green from the void of the lover's soul.

Below the surface of a sea of sand I am breathing in only stardust.
My legs are tingling as they strive to wake up for this journey.

You are narcotic in your presence.
I am elated and depressed simultaneously by your existence.
A wonderful rush followed by a drunken stupor.
An ******* and a small death herein.

Here I am looking away from you because I am afraid of who I am.
I will only skim your surface because what is beneath mine is unspeakable.

I keep my eye heavy lidded,
because if they were wide open,
I would explode into treacherous rapture.
I would know bliss, and that is not meant for me.

This pain, I am only holding dear,
because it has been wrongfully taken from me before.
Please, allow me this despair. Let me feel this anguish.
Though it does not allow you comfort to witness,
it leaves no reason for your false consolation.

Look not, if it discomforts you so — to see me writhing.
Ask not of me to untangle myself from this twisted feeling.

This vine is welcome wisteria nestled in the shadows of my arms.
I ask of you to focus not on my withering leaves,
but of the blossoms it bears.

I will hoist its parasitic lavender radiance to the heavens,
an offering to the eyes of the suffering.

Do not dam these rivers lest you wish a flood upon your mind.
The ocean does not deny any a waterway, and why should you?
Are you so different from the vast gut of the world?
Let us be left landlocked and breathing hot sand.

Let me be. Let me run!

Where is the right place?
When is the right time?
To surface from the ocean of sinking sand.

The forever crumbling plateaus of this high
have me leaping from stone to stone.

Watch where yours is thrown;
where it lands you may find interesting.

This is incoherence.
I am confusion.

Where be my emotional faculty!
Where be my functionality!

Ever wandering.
Caught up. Waiting.
For the next ending.
Too busy to think of the new beginnings.

Quick! Keep going...
You may miss what's going to happen next!
But wait, wait for it...
"Right after these messages."

WHAT OF HERE
WHAT OF NOW
HAVE WE FORGOTTEN EACH OTHER
HAVE WE FORGOTTEN OURSELVES

Have we already closed
the never ending story and
put it back on the shelf?