Scenes from the Breeze


Secretly
I let the wind blow my headache through my soul and out my ears
I grow tall and tired in the breeze
Unknowingly I ride a frail barrier between
this world
and her
I dream I'm blind
tasting floating colors and scenes from the sea
My eyes were grey, so grey
with the air and sky
it almost seemed as if they were
begat
of the same celestial creature
dying to be born again
I mean
She could starve with wonder
in all that it's told
A thought
A record player
Spinning the crystal ship
At that point
we reached some
point of end

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