Frosty da snowman
Bluelighter
stroking midnights flavors
feeling that stiff emotion, lubed with a bottle of Bordeaux
digging that red flush, feeding that black goodnight
fading into a reflective atmosphere
your crying god with your lonely salute
dreaming of red, black angel wings; whispering to Gabriel, listening, hoping, wishing for that horn to play out
waiting for open arms
waiting for the next personality to step in
waiting for permission to sip bliss
waiting for the next instant
it’s been 7 and ¾ seconds of pain since 12:01 started
the over compressed minute of the next days birth, spilling rudely, onto the next seconds stage
the witching moments smirk still on your lips as you lick, kiss, and wipe away 12:02
12:05 is something like a nightmare
to far into the next day to go back
and yesterday still not quite digested
the Merlot bile tastes of a lack of compression
12:06 is a nut scratch
simply up, down, left, right
a few seconds of readjustment
an affirmation of self
and still the seconds laugh quietly away
12:07
another sip of the wine
the heady esters
the swirled glass
the clockwise sentimentality
a Jack Daniels moment defined
12:08 is when lucidity steps in
a silent peek into your corners
the check the clock reminder
the endless room service you quite don’t remember
the seconds you missed while laughing away
12:09 is that summer of freedom
those 60 second days of invincibility
the care free days of wingless flight
the dime bag of happiness that just doesn’t seem to end
12:10
un-remarkable in it’s un-importance
just another minute in another empty prayer for sleep
feeling that stiff emotion, lubed with a bottle of Bordeaux
digging that red flush, feeding that black goodnight
fading into a reflective atmosphere
your crying god with your lonely salute
dreaming of red, black angel wings; whispering to Gabriel, listening, hoping, wishing for that horn to play out
waiting for open arms
waiting for the next personality to step in
waiting for permission to sip bliss
waiting for the next instant
it’s been 7 and ¾ seconds of pain since 12:01 started
the over compressed minute of the next days birth, spilling rudely, onto the next seconds stage
the witching moments smirk still on your lips as you lick, kiss, and wipe away 12:02
12:05 is something like a nightmare
to far into the next day to go back
and yesterday still not quite digested
the Merlot bile tastes of a lack of compression
12:06 is a nut scratch
simply up, down, left, right
a few seconds of readjustment
an affirmation of self
and still the seconds laugh quietly away
12:07
another sip of the wine
the heady esters
the swirled glass
the clockwise sentimentality
a Jack Daniels moment defined
12:08 is when lucidity steps in
a silent peek into your corners
the check the clock reminder
the endless room service you quite don’t remember
the seconds you missed while laughing away
12:09 is that summer of freedom
those 60 second days of invincibility
the care free days of wingless flight
the dime bag of happiness that just doesn’t seem to end
12:10
un-remarkable in it’s un-importance
just another minute in another empty prayer for sleep
