moving up slowly

raise me slowly to your lips

I want to colour the skies

the shade of a riot.

I feel like breathing fire tonight

Hey bartender, hit me with another. Scotch straight up. I want to breathe fire.

I think of Oppenheimer’s famous words from the Bhagavad-gita. At this moment, I want to take to the stands and testify. Trickle down frank facts… though my mouth is brimful of a roaring river full of tar and emotions, threatening to burst the dam. Hurt, anger, jealousy has boiled over like hot milk spilling over a heated stove pot. The raw grit and desire for retribution has become me. Who am I??? to turn these simple hands into pounding fists.

vigilante.

comfortable dreamers

There is something so sublime

about,

waking up slowly

skin:skin

transference

I know now,

the moon, when she is -

eclipsed.

her morning elegance