Heal . . .

The day was a colour of smoke- dry, misty, ...placid..

the spaces were trying to muffle the relentless mutters.....
like incorrigible hounds from a fresh piece of meat.

It became a gnawing drowsy unconscious bite held for so long that it became the status quo-
like the burden of hair.....

or the burden of this very physicality...
this deep urge to reach the apex of physical pain and then just a step beyond sounded like something that would release you from the very concept of physicality...
just burst out into space....

like the radiant powder of glitter from the balloon that just burst....

slow motion glory....

it's playfulness now....

drowsy balmy breeze detaching and blowing away all that doesn't matter to me to i don't want to know where.....just away.......
where it just stopped existing....

this space...

around my head and
through my hair and
in the sound of silence sighing in my ears....

it's dragging me to a cozy harmony...........
like the hum of a faint violin in a solitary winter night........
and silently breathing cherry blossoms.........

i want to stay here for a while..........................