Sailing off in silver glass into the opaque sky, speaking in silence for
hours with green x-ray vision.
The grass glowed below filled with shimmering scorpion cacoons.
While we danced in the hungry desert, the girl with the plastic eyes laughed
hysterically, she found her floresent candle.
Ready rock tulips bloom grey in the city on flames, dizzy as we spin keep
spinning.
Tweak tweak, euthopia, euthoforium.
Steams of cries, soaking the outer, wooden frames of the forgotten blow
block pressure crystal pollution creating the heavens, climbing, liberation.
Drops float into the air, we swiftley inhaled each wishful drop of liquid.
Only to be flushed through our bodys once again, blindfolded with sun and
silver glass in each hand. We are heavier than both.
Sliding off in wooden frames into the dark naked synthetic stars below,
drowning, now climbing.
All the children are here running laughing with scorpion cacoons, seven
seconds.
-david
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