beat waves , beach haze
beat drips , in slaves mouths as they thank the rich for their gift of tapped water
and tapped shoes on tapping feet dancing not to entertain but to save their skins from narrow , harrow mishap and they know , if they make it out of there alive they’ll never go back
not now , not ever.
not now , never .
not now .
not now ...
when , were they, there
and where were they there..
who - . ? (owls)
who sat upon drinking mats and dancing streets who ate with their shoes at their feet?
who licked up their milk , who danced with starlight naked with no more gilt then guilt
and shame to beneficiours name and thankful legend doth save mankinds *** - once again.
and you tell me i shouldn’t be writing stories and tales
and bed time nightmares
wait till i get dark -
is the name. winks
i am not the moon , no , but i am a faucet of moon’s taste and moon’s style her failures and her virtues , if it’s easier for you , i am moon personified...
i once read somewhere - love is metaphysical gravity -
i’ve never heard anything more scientifically accurate.
Lips lock - the poppers drop
one by one , zip slide ,
electric skin , carnvicours sins - some would deem un worldly
well - i wouldn’t put it past yourself
it’s only in the shadows of days death ,
the night time arena
many a metaphysical friend and maybe a few foes
Life , knows....
Maybe that’s who we should start with eh , noob?
Life? His house is over there.
Take my hand -
See , down below - we have the lands of El Salvador
and here , is Papua ,
Look Svalbard....and the elves are having a party...
*Dive bombs to Svalbards shores ....the mountain white drenched in sipping brews the elves rest in woodland - night begins to wrap the company in shivers and the light flickers out * - shh say’s moon - it’s almost time -
the last full moon of summer , is rising.
from beyond the frozen lake shores where all lay still sat the moon’s crest her light before her self
up on the shelf of mountain lip ,
and with grace like no other - the orb slowly began to glow green
and the thunderstorm no one had seen cracked lightning behind , called up by norse winds and norse tides.
The elves looked upon the tree and a single blossom falls,
touches the floor and blinds them all in bright light.
END CHAPTER -
comic book - i am currently creating called 'Moon Cat'
just the prolouge tease