it spins its curls over me
like whip cream in a vivid dream
I recall
the awe of which it came
dripped right thru my frame
to claim me...
punctured in function
I scramble to move
like eggs on a toasted head
the mood it fades too soon...
I am left
right where I started
alone
since the stone parted
over me
like the sea
strands of silver swim past me
coax me into sanity...
In this dream I reside
trying to hide from the demons
inside
but I speak too soon
changing moods with the moon
and prone to clone
the souls sweet food
into fragments of moments
that fade too soon.