HollowRefraction

Bitter? Hemlock? No, no one would live to tell, Scary how it's all over huh? Probably tastes like years ago... sorry, Okay. I hung up that painting you know? I swear it's an elephant... It's German I think, Funny how now your eye is for that art, You got to See it didn't you? I'm sure you'll see a lot of things even if you never do wear your glasses... Shut up you are... [Beautiful]

A cold spring rain, Clouds busting their stitches Kind eyes and shirts pulled over heads, A soft echoing laugh, Magnifying quiet breaths, A slight memory, As a pebble causing ripples, In my mind turned to liquid, A slow fluid emotion, A dream.

Though this dimness sit the lovers, The strangers, The children, From the street trying not to glance, Putting myself in his place, There is no déjà vu in the world like this. The stars are not the glowing pieces of broken light bulbs they used to be, Just a distraction from all this muted clamor, Orion was just out of reach that night, Looking out a tin can, Doubled over, Take a picture. An almost perfect prototype for a digitized Bohemian, Made possible by time travel, 6-fucking-AM, It wasn't for me (Imperfection), Not for long (then or now). Who the fuck am I kidding.

Consider the pebble that came from the peak, worn and weathered and torn from comfort, (only to settle with others of the same wear) Rainbows and polka-dots and old bus numbers, We are actually nothing, yes even you, fathom the stars and the planets and the void, a void that is everything and nothing at all, what is time but the sound of ticking, and what is space but a blacked spattered canvas? a beautiful mess, a pollock, the universe, everything, and nothing at all, so captivating, so amazing, so dumb.

And in the moonlight I see nothing, Nothing at all but clarity surrounded by shining blue clouds, Deafening silence like going underwater, Darkness behind the eyes like becoming a silhouette. Paper flowers for the beauty, And wicker chairs for sitting, The counterpart of a past old friend, Still just as elegant, Still just as unpredictable, Climbing up the walls. Asphalt to feet and raindrops to open palms, Does my aura glow? I can feel the surging, The rushing in my skin, What does it mean? I see no goddess here. too bad I know the moon is just a rock spinning in space, I might have just thought that was her.

Seething with love, Creativity, Laughter, Jealousy, Pain, And deceit. A pill for the mind, To the tongue, To the stomach, To the blood, And to everywhere. Photographs in my heart, The obsolete kind, A trip to the store, Thumbs, Distortions, All of those things. A cloak for cold shoulders, A fan to the heat, A gold star for effort, The stain of defeat. Fruit from strange vines, A flower from a faraway world, Sticky hands, Wet cheeks. A root for the future, A seed from the past, Wither and crackle to a medicine, And ointment, What skill. A star for the daytime, And lamps for the night, Open the fields for me