Time is a circle
Sometimes it's a donut
Where I stand in the middle
Between the past
And the present
I forget which is what
Direction sometimes
“Now that I know Denver is home, I am reluctant to leave it.” – Manea
She is coming to me
I can feel her
From here
I can smell her
As I inhale her scent
When we embrace
The anticipation
Of weeks swirl
About us in an
Energetic storm
Of held passion
No longer willing
Nor desired
To be held back,
And I smile here
And now
Before we are there
And then
Making love again.
Friend: I'm back again. I think I'm going nuts.
Manea: So you came back to add some flakes?
Boss: what about some fruit?
Grey is the sky,
Like cotton candy devoid of it's joy
Pulled over the world
Like the blanket
We wish was curled around us.
Why did we get out of bed?
Isn't it better to dream
Than to face the dreary
Sadness that hangs in the air
Like this morning fog?
It reflects our collective soul,
Heavy, grey, cold,
Holding back the light
That undeniably shines
Behind the blanket
Of forgetfulness.
“I think the cotton candy is stalking me.” – Manea
How can I be human?
MY heart soars about the sky
When my body stands
Upon the earth
Wishing it were with me.
There are always such somber faces in the morning
And such tired faces in the afternoon…
I wish they could all be as happy with existence
As the one who was just told
He was going to live longer
Than expected.
Perspective is everything.
