I think I'm seeing double.
Woke within sleep inside of a giant, sun-bleached ribcage sticking up like spires from a bone city buried in sand. Attempts to classify or clarify were thwarted by the dreamthread dissolving before I could trace my fingers over the runes on each rib. I caught a wisp of it, ghost of a girl reclining on a rise in the sand like a splash of smooth cream. Sleep still rock polishing the gravel in my throat, I said aloud, "You'll curdle in the blast of the sun, beauty." It shocked me to full lucidity. This isn't the first time.
The yawning distance between fate and faith is bridged by thin poles with cracked tops placed just far enough apart to make the jump impossible. If you slide down far enough, hooks and picks engaged, you can see the pattern used to place them. It's the sine wave of first orgasm underscoring smug laughter. An unreachable high, believe me I've tried. I look for high tension wires, resolve to grow wings, throw vine seeds into the sky, wonder if hooves would fit better than human feet and remember that neither Pan nor the Devil require another understudy. It's so much easier to encourage slow explosions in dim light than start fires under burnt out stars.
I want some new kind of kick. That's so obnoxious it makes me choke. I feel desperate, disparate. I should take up karate again. I quit when I got my ass handed to me by a file clerk from San Luis Obispo. Maybe this time, I could learn to block attacks like I block memories.
.tim
The yawning distance between fate and faith is bridged by thin poles with cracked tops placed just far enough apart to make the jump impossible. If you slide down far enough, hooks and picks engaged, you can see the pattern used to place them. It's the sine wave of first orgasm underscoring smug laughter. An unreachable high, believe me I've tried. I look for high tension wires, resolve to grow wings, throw vine seeds into the sky, wonder if hooves would fit better than human feet and remember that neither Pan nor the Devil require another understudy. It's so much easier to encourage slow explosions in dim light than start fires under burnt out stars.
I want some new kind of kick. That's so obnoxious it makes me choke. I feel desperate, disparate. I should take up karate again. I quit when I got my ass handed to me by a file clerk from San Luis Obispo. Maybe this time, I could learn to block attacks like I block memories.
.tim