Ersatz orange shadows
cast on urban streets at night.
Lost in disassociation,
There's a tunnel at the end of the light.

Her eyes gaze far into the horizon,
To meet the glare of a storm arising.
The quiet before it's thunder is chilling,
As the energy is distilling.
Shivers dance
on the nape of her neck.
I can hear the contemplation,
Her rumination.

Dark doors echo on a glass plane.
She dwells here,
Transfixed by fluorescent stains.
Black-light projectors
and vibrancy injectors
illuminate this neon dimension;
Trance angel held in suspension.

So many will never experience the sensations we have known,
I trust you will keep our venturous exploits ongoing.