4/1/10

Daydream of a painted autumn's end

outside my window there is 
a clear blue sky which is not
nothingness; endless, no
ceiling, no floor
the telephone wires with
neatly lined rows of pigeons and
dried leaves of maple 
are missing
i might meet this sky with my
curled fist, cool breeze, empty 
cubes of air;
but fingers touch nothing
there might be 
a thin translucent dreamlike fabric 
there, maybe, just;
and these bony knuckles might
puncture the surface 
if 
i can be angrier than
what is behind all your skins, break
the paneled glass first; 
holes will be my fingerprints now
they will say 
the girl who could fly, she was here
and
believing can do wonders, you know
and stars might tumble out and
engulf us forever
chilly evening, a hundred expressions in
spilt shades of orange and pink.

[NPWM #1, 1/1/10]

2 comments:

Single Winged Butterfly said...

i LOVE YOUR BLOG! (APRIL FOOLS!)

























NOT!!! LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL NO NOT REALLY IM JUST NOT THAT IN TO THIS STUFF. BY THE WAY YOU REALLY HAD ME THERE WITH URS. LOVE ALWAYS FARAH HOPE ♥

Single Winged Butterfly said...

Yeah to make myself clear i love your blog and i meant "I love your blog (APRIL FOOLS!).... NOT! WHICH MEANS I DO LOVE YOUR BLOG.

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in the wake of light, your words bring me more(please, do leave your fingerprints behind, so I may relish the image of our hands after you go.)