W r i t i n g .
Twisting and turning under the ray light of a blue moon.
He wanders through the glass eye heights of a dizzying circus top.
How still the sunlight makes him.
His trembling lessens and he fumbles and tumbles through starlight shadows.
Whispers awaken his being.
Lights out of reach,
Yet a pulling sensation
Hinders his realisation
Dripping glass like water.
Foaming lips on small lily-pads that float along an ambient river. Starlit, a galaxy of raindrops.
What am I doing in this place.
Somewhere that is misplaced from my wanting in life.
A misshapen place,
Wanting to fly on a wing of euphoria, to breath deeply and slowly,
as I feel myself heating up all too quickly. A hot fire rising as more fuel is added to it.
Reeling and reeling, words uncontrollably slipping off of the tongue like custard.
An image of childhood destroyed by modernity. Magic unfeeling lights dotting around the shadows. Darting like butterflies to flowers that are not yet grown.
Uncovered wonder, a little box ready to be opened by curious minds.
Sitting quietly, patient to be revealed.
They may never know what lays behind the mysterious veil of unknowing that she pulls over her mind.