Saturday, March 29, 2014
Constellations of Consolation Prizes
He dripped with this after-hours glow that held my attention but made me so ambivalent, that I couldn't decide weather I'd stay or weather I'd go. There was an acid ease to his character and it was a slow erosion on my instabilities and installations of constellations made up of consolation prizes for a night of laser beams and confessions. I felt his heart beat from beneath my feet and I wasn't sure if I had fallen into the grip of grime or time but all seemed to be the same thing anyway. Institutionalized bottles of nectar that decides to intoxicate the soul and bring memories down to a slow simmer. Eventually you realize that it's closer to lunchtime than anytime and nothing is as sunny side up as you thought it would be.