in the tempered spring of consciousness i float along the winding river of whimsical wonderings

so far from dry land

this abomination in quasi-human form, trembling uncontrollably, from nerves or exposure or a combination of both

ethereal epidural patches that blossom with strident colours across the bare patches of mindless inconsistency

longing for a dock

it is pessimistic optimism that keep reality just out of fingers reach as salty spray sends shivers of ecclesiastical pain shooting

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s