a sentence on z outskirts of z dream

by ventzpent

Posted to Poetry on 2001-11-29 03:44:00

the wind was high on my back and dry like the sun pushing the tide pushing me the moon pushing me into the soft twilight of elysium sparkling on the tip of my eyes my tongue like a ghost a smooth ghost of infancy sent back to tease my reason with its stare its ways beautific and a treat of some avenue in the sun sent sending my soul into a sea of stars.