I woke up bathing in the moon light. It was of warmth and tender touch. Though I know that I have to get through of it. So I did everything I have to as I took it for granted. As I went outside to take on my path, my yesterdays kept huanting and pulling me back. I fought and I fought until I thought it was alright. But I'm not alright. I let myself be taken and be brought to another realm where reality's obscure and so desperate to show there's life when there's none. The sun's about to come and the sky's turning teal. I am again on the same road I walked a thousand times before. And I'd walk a million times more. It's not only becoming a habbit, it's becoming more of regularity in my system. I want my yesterday to capture me this time.
Turn the music up My favorite song Ethereal Set in motion Ice cold window Coasting at seventy-five Dropping low In the right direction Passing every exit The murals written The night time Jumbled emotions perpetuated In a handshake Or a smile Sigh Yeah Now that's the real America
Your window rolled down The smoke Pouring out of my mouth Like your chimney in winter And yet The whole time I perceive things moving slow My grinning face Your laugh All the lights from driving down the highway That every few seconds Light up our faces horizontally And flash in terrific blinding orange stripes But still Moving slowly Softly Like the gentle waves of foam at night The car slows The engine dies I climb out dizzily I realize we've arrived at the ocean Just in time for a midnight swim, you say
She sees some sort of beauty tainted in the smell of almost a pack of cigarettes. And little drops of his favorite coffee stained his body and resided as freckles that showed the amount of kisses she would leave on his wild skin - if he'd let her. His innocence resides in his virility - if virility was ever innocent. And for him, she is just the portal to heaven to which he holds the key. And that key itself led him to other heavens, sometimes to a few hells, and some other times to nowhere. With her, he might go nowhere. But if she decides to take him on a little trip, his key will lead him to a journey he's never been to - her.
Something about those 300 miles made it seem like we would never come back. I saw more in that garden level apartment than in the wild of Yosemite. We were intoxicated by the city. Filled with wishes and dreams…and *****. "I never want to leave." and I think a part never will. One more place to call to us.
It rained through the halls. Over door thresholds and under Christmas tree lights it spilled. Funny how the sun light changes things. Like picking up a full glass to find it's half empty. Something expected to have weight is blown away by the wind.