The magnetic specter of our dance is gratifying in its own way. The ebbs and flows, the way it goes carving-marking along the way. Deeper than ditches run, farther than a tumble weed could tumble, we fade into each other and the landscape.
When time is timeless what does time mean? Perhaps a momentary infinity of you and me on this hypothetical horizon, watching the shades fade from hue to hue. Darkened silhouettes along the terrain, enveloped in some other domain existent but far between.
Specks in the dust, they say
Each meaningful and yet inconsequential in their own way
Working the wheel.
Beating the drum.
Reading the same script, over and over again
“You play this role, and I will play that.”
Expectations, at times hum-drum because you know you’ve played and acted these roles before, whether hero or villain you are familiar with the score.
The pipers come piping, the drummers do drum. The hamsters keeps spinning, song after song.
So what? In mixture of this intoxication in our physical being- how can we sequester such meaning? I cop it up to hormones, emotions and feeling. Avoiding the meaning it plays on some higher reality. You have yet to play the lover or the beloved.
The world at my fingertips, hair on end as I keep feeling this world, again and again.
I can be the gyroscope, and if you can hold a steady plane. Let me spin inside your skin until our souls touch. In some perfect balance of day and night, taking flight to higher heights than either has ever known. Sew yourself within me- carefully.
Together we can be stronger than before, a united front of protection in this mundane place of normality. We would be allowed to dream bigger dreams. See ourselves as champions.
I can share with you my secrets of the cosmos- my ever evolving mind. This heart holds divine space for you, there has always been a place for you in the core of my cerebellum, telling me to move muscles and sinew forward until the crux of time and space collide. The horizon simplified, no longer lingering in hypothetical realms or parallel dimensions.
Our compartmentalization of feeling somehow becoming null and void?