"Florida drive, Florida frame of mind
someone (t)here[!](?) to share the blame,
this endless sun, relentless sweat
A hazy hazel dream, I shan't soon forget."
These words I thought, then nothing more.
So within a lull I stood in subtle meditation,
losing count, breathing slow,
feeling the shallow pulse adjoin
the flaming remnants of a day gone past.
Between subtle signs, the wandering lies,
that many tales we tell ourselves in remembering
out there is now a tall hill, beyond the shuttered lid
an endless plain forming wide, far beyond.
Like this sand its white blankets; snow riding endless on all sides,
No footprints to behold, no wicked tale to tell
Onward, ever on to near horizon
there no life, no breath: no very essence by which to shudder.
When suddenly, a thud upon the glass brought me round;
leaving heart, and mind to flounder widely
A friendly foe, a troubled face;
a simple sign of the whole human race.
Drifting.
Must have drifted again, on this sweet melody.
Thought at first a strong sun (or other ray of light?) had found us
She suspended their by which to judge
Tearing those soft lids in strong pull
till her own lid blinked.
Yet no - twas not yet meant to be
just a face, with sweet droplets forming, melting,
Her nuzzle marks showing against the sill.
Just a calf; nothing more.
So now we stood in awe, each watching each other through strong panes
Her moving in delicate motions
I with hand raised, fighting the urge to run
For shes soft in there, calm
Her tears, a salty trepidation, on which to cool the heart
Now beneath the baking dying of the sun
Each filling with their own frightening monstrosities.
While we drowned in the tidepull, lungs quailing deeply
For it is on eves like these that traceries form: strong bonds,
a heart and chemicals guide towards a greater love
She floating, I a goblet to receive
Cause the hidden eyes to melt, flex; to see.
Heart in hand, a tale on young tongue held
a nearing lullaby not yet told.
As we drift here.
As we drift ever on.
No, do not leave that place! Fight for life,
fight the dying of the day, even as the skies melt,
as fingers flipper outstretched vagrancy to unite us
a sweet insanity soon to find us.
As we drift here.
As we drift ever on.
Must have drifted away again: a stupid thing.
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