Prolapstriumph
Bluelighter
Relaxing in a sea of melted vanilla pearls, living out some enya song in ambient ambrosia, floating in a limbo of cotton opiate clouds, ect. is what I'd liken those times to, lookin' back.
The atmosphere and state of mind,
It had such calm benevolence to it,
memories of that time and place.
So welcome and overwhelming, as though
a pinnacle had been reached.
The picture long sice framed
succumbs to a spiral dissociation,
as neutral as it's cause.
These seemed the simplest of leisurely
pleasures; infinitely raw and
beautiful, those haunting moments.
To be loved, by those beloved,
their breath as much sensation
as you'd ever need...
To lose all cosmic humility,
and stare at the cerulean skies,
beyond reverence, to the
point of dualistic submission.
But then I always did prefer memories to the actual experience.
The atmosphere and state of mind,
It had such calm benevolence to it,
memories of that time and place.
So welcome and overwhelming, as though
a pinnacle had been reached.
The picture long sice framed
succumbs to a spiral dissociation,
as neutral as it's cause.
These seemed the simplest of leisurely
pleasures; infinitely raw and
beautiful, those haunting moments.
To be loved, by those beloved,
their breath as much sensation
as you'd ever need...
To lose all cosmic humility,
and stare at the cerulean skies,
beyond reverence, to the
point of dualistic submission.
But then I always did prefer memories to the actual experience.
great work