The projector is a woman
A human
A dreamer
Made out of jumper cables and breadcrumbs
Your thumbnails are tumbling
Head over heels to meet her
We see the sharpened glass
And as fast as we can cash out
We make a run for the patio
A ladder up the stairs
With hatred in our hands
And nothing left in our hearts to sell
We are accompanied by monkeys
And men in tuxedos
A loose cannon blooms
And shoots through the wall
A canopy collides
With a visually challenged individual
How are you so full of persuasion, she asks
A mix of liberation and a margarita
I am dreaming of the ocean
A perfect place to lie in the sun and dry off my shoulders
With common purpose
We surf the sound of metaphors crashing
In flashes of crayons
And wet paint sprayed haphazardly
We explain our philosophy to the gravediggers
We keep waking them
Until our hourglasses need fixing
We are shifting in our sandals
And refolding our blankets every hour
The old magic is tangled in your hair
And I just can't stop staring at you
Are you really even here
I hope you don’t mind
That the winter is alive with the sound of nature
We are naturally blinded by infrared romantics
Yet bound to find our souls in the middle
Our blood is equipped with spit and spirit
And it fits right into our heart
We are shifting stratospheres
For there was a lonely place here
Even before the earth appeared, forever naked
We are infiltrating the epicenter of the universe
A purposeless poem
Lost in the wind
Folded to begin with
Now we are unfolding
Opening
Unraveling, traveling
Our trembling fingers tenderly touch
Yet we must not rush
Or we're likely to make a mistake
We're better off avoiding