Where do moon tides dream when you lie beneath homemade stars? Deep inside, wear off the devil inside, and just breathe. It comes in waves now, that pulling feeling to go back, back in time. The streets curve as you move. There we all are. Moving, trying not to slip and break the liquid glass. Mirrors to another place, another universe. And we think, we are fragile. This is all fragile. Tiptoeing hesitance, cutting the blade in a perfect figure eight. Who’s keeping count? Landing on our feet, we are the edge of the water’s sleep. Nothing more than autumn leaves breaking with each footed grace, pumpkins lining the streets, young faces painted in midnight disguise. A revolution of its time, before the snow covers summer grass and fallen color, and skies darken with the bitter cold. The desert doesn’t seem to know so much of a season’s passing. Time slows and dust settles in a velvet cloth. Mountains are to be climbed, endless roads have to end somewhere. To get there. To rest there. To watch there. Away from those lights and those people. To just lie there with open eyes screening stars so real and far away for some message of salvation—some message just for you and that magic carpet. A wolf’s call can sound there in the calm of the night without fear or danger, just wary like us. And loyalty. Oh, where we just question and they just breathe. Where they act; weightless, breathless, firelight free. Dust passes in a divine trance—quickly enveloping above, frozen, thick and muddy within. We turn to one another, each a ghost in some slow and precise dimension. Our voices, a muffled dance; our ears, a symphony ablaze with a droning hum. We etch our name into the white sky, hoping to paint the sunset somewhere above us. To feel again in that moment, alive. Like we are the only ones that made it out from some broken apocalypse, under siege. Maybe everything follows a flight plan. Plane after plane landing and leaving, never breaking off-course into a new city, a new year, a new you. Every person following one another, hoping for something better, scraping the dust of far above stars, just breathing together.
Sure there are things we cannot see, but that doesn’t mean we cannot feel what is free. I wish I could feel it all for you.
