display | more...

Golden light shafts that miraculously steal through the overwhelming fog.

Punk diversions, breathless wankings, ponderous drink of ice-cold swirling. Slim holdings of peace and reason.

The ompher black mass, weighing down, shifting this way and that, smugly sitting on shoulders too weary to hold them up and a smile at the same time.

Short breaths only, of course, short, insufficient and too much, breathe in and out through the dimness, the dipping and the floating.

The murmurs and shivers of someone else’s conversation. The deep, insurmountable distance of that hush-hush of words, not mine, not fine, not too away, not too remote.

The eyelids, the heaviness that camps there, heavy, dragging, sliding, stone.

Attention now, attention skip, attention slip, attention sway, attention gone. Flicker, focus, flicker, hocus, flicker focus, flicker pocus.

The gnite and gmoon rasp and rangle vicious. Or gentle. What does it matter either way?

Sink, sink, sink, sink, and then, blub-blub, air again. Sink, sink, sink sink, sink and then, kaboom. The now is an explosion. Of light, briefly though. Ha ha, briefly.

Happiness aborted again. The smile hacked off at foetus stage. But the laugh it comes, the day goes on and the ghost slips away a part of its veils and another hour rolls by.

Log in or register to write something here or to contact authors.