plastic keepsakes fit perfectly in my pocket, like shelving memories. a library of everything magnificent. while i sit here on cloud nine, reading closed captions of my life. harmonized ideas swing softly into my mind and everything murky is now clear. vivid masterpieces lining up in unison and devouring any cautious slurs that are trying to slip from gentle lips into a moment of absolute bliss. the hands of the clock have been removed and we will no longer search for days like places on maps. slowly dancing into tomorrow, footsteps in the dark creep onto our hearts and heavy sorrows are swept away with simple stares. pulsing beats pump against torsos but no music is actually playing, stay tuned for encouraged revelation, a brand new place with just faces of excitement, nerve endings dancing at the contact and actions are speaking louder than words and all my words are now jumbled and if not careful they will misfire into a never ending frenzy.
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