I might not belong here; but I must have something to tell that cannot be explained; and that is just it; something to force out which assumes to almost evaporate in me again and again like it is not even there…

I awoke here in the summer of 91, into a scene raged from some homebound ride; by a long sweeping arc; an empty grave but quaked; the disintegration, the gradual slanted ancient swirled skirts of smooth leather gripped my penetration; oh ho, but I bent loose in them physical silver slivers, slid along quicksilver as the energy sparked; and just conquered the momentum of the earth, then caged jabs brawled alone in one entire swipe at space to get out of it and reached for the pillows. And I am but here.


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s