Yellow plastic reinforces this already bad back. Schisms numbed by the remedy - Drink, A “wish-wash” and lobotomy prior all but night, My neon-centric surrounding, this only friend, Beneath skies so very foreign and starless.
When one nerve burns, two more remind That I’ve a home; celestial temples, trees that talk And pillow-topped mattresses, Hindered only, the one-way ticket I wasn’t quite ready to purchase.
So I remained; hungry, starved and salivating, Shifting something to the left of sanity, Yet sane enough to shoot but one good glimpse For something as simple as, “hello,” And I get it; “hello,” a prelude of course.
She’s wearing the same tatters she’d worn yesterday, The day before yesterday and probably tomorrow. But that’s where the smell of sex seemingly bloomed – This beach, this dirt, this humanity, this humility, An untouchable touched.
She said, “hello,” and I dreamt not of home, But the wondrous world within human hearts, Within her; her and the sand she’d leave upon me, Ancient, eternal and embedded, With only time to judge each grain, Be it penance or as passing.