clocked in at twilight, streaming through the endless waters that actually aren’t
i found an unchecked path, the one around us
the one that involves the improvision in our minds, the on the spot deliverance towards entertainment
inundated with streetlights, parlors, and beggars
corporate businesses and men talking about the last football game, i drowned in this imaginary sea till the universe gave birth to dusk, prompting the others to take on a magnificent new routine.
fearing this rapid change, and the black omen of life that haunts every star blinding setting of life, the beacon of light, the only one in that period opened itself to me, where a flood of voices, drifting across chopped trees lay stationary, waiting to be devoured.
when the darkness seeped into even this beacon that i once called sanctuary, i was confronted by a woman with hair like a chocolate volcano and oozing caramel, garbed in suspenders who exchanged a story to me about her adventures in the vaccum, and the orgasmly powerful constellations that glossed this lightless region of life.
from those words, the traces of my thoughts became corrupt and a new tale emerged, written in the aura of the earth, unviewable to all.