here
It’s been too long since I threw any thoughts down into eternity. This is Shangri-la, what it does to you. The past recedes and the future becomes reality, slice by slice. No looking back at license plates or sideways glances at sidelong faces in the marketplace, no use wondering how mothers and fathers met. You can only connect the dots, even if you can’t make out the picture.
This is a dream I could drown in. The air is clearer here, the signs more vivid, though I can’t always know what they mean. You could run forever in those forests, up there in the morning veil of soft cotton haze and mist, find a sense of home and call it a place, where no one can find you if you don’t want them to. Neon jolts the city into its night existence. Music is playing somewhere, a child’s upturned toy, an automated garbage truck, underground bass. Wonder when I’ll get to see the beach, see sand between my fingers, let the waves cradle the horizon to sleep. I will let it all flow.
