Millions of years ago,
We picked lice from our scabby heads,
Hunched over, knuckles dragging.
Now you are Yuja Wang,
And I surf upon waves of psyco-acoustical sound,
Cacophonic dissonance to maestoso harmonies,
Eargasms evolved from such grunts.
Flash forward to tennis; Serves zero love, Ace,
Clay and grass grunts again and again,
Cresendo, return. Coda return, repeat;
White skirts from animal skins,
Racquets from clubs and bones,
Michelin stars from licey hunger,
Stars above, and below, (its all perspective,)
On the sphere of imaginary heaven.
Did you love me then, in the primordial hope,
For now, the sadest tune:
Not you, but another.
Muscle memory, synapse short-circuit,
Those legs, a new religion, worthy of praise,
Eyes of crystal, blue lace seas of calm,
Pirece like gamma rays upon raw flesh,
Forrests of ferns burried under oceans of sediment,
Power to fuel the thought of progress,
Dig a spore, hold one's breath,
Scratch my back, uopn mushroomy gillls,
Sticky with prickles;
At least smile at me,
When you proclaim with 'that' look,
Not you, but another.
The rings of Saturn, the red of Mars,
The phases of percieved time, and quantumy,
Reach out to us like distant tenticles,
Orbits are oval eggs,
Laws are laws, twice two is....
Always the same.
Chimes of the celestial,
Move us.
The baby-grand comes to life with your touch,
Your fingers, the exctasy, the orchestral feathers,
Plumed into perfection, and swooned into sin,
The majesty of history, the dread of tomorrow,
When you say:
Not you, but another.
We lunched together in a cafe,
On the 7th planet in system of Canis Major,
Under the helium-2 yellow clouds of ice,
Rainbows defracted on the ions of free radicals,
Tourist traps are ubiquirous,
Atmosphere of visible breaths, and purple hues,
Sipping coffee,
Grown on the other end of the universe,
Shipped next day,
At minimal expense to us,
No cream, but synthtic, ehh,
The sugar home made.
Do you love me yet?
Not you, but another,
The sound of clanking silverware,
And scent of zero gravity expresso,
Remind me of the cyclic expressions,
Of longing,
And the newly chiralated caffeine molecules,
Hand-crafted energy and crashes,
Of never being happy.
On anon.
But that I listen to your music,
As I slowly dissolve into the ether.
Image
Image not mine
Comments (1)
masterful