Saturday, August 18, 2018

whirlpool

a rush of images, sounds, tastes, and touch
a man can only take so much
before he violently shakes his head
like a dog to come back to the now

but the colors of the now are muted
there is no comparison to a dimly lit afternoon
like a Polaroid of a rainbow, frozen in time
something secret, just yours and mine

the whirlpool of thoughts has me in its grip
my heart on a slide and ready to slip
how can a few hours be such a trip
it's a high that keeps on giving

back in the now
my dreams are peppered
with everything you

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