Today I strutted through the secret road, to get home.
You don't know about this route because let’s face it- I’d rather
keep some things to myself.
Like campy trees and uneven shrub arrangement where I smell
the color green and white simultaneously..
Yeah, we are allowed to be stingy when it comes to pleasure
sometimes. Besides private lives are mysterious joys.
But while I was walking and listening to music, my ears started
pumping thick lava of euphoria into my system. It was one of
those moments you want to save in a little glass bottle. Almost
everything about that moment was amazing. You should have
been there to see my face perform secret public orgasms.
You are my secret public orgasm.
And that wasn’t all. You see, I had this sudden urge to write
a poem. It was the strangest kind of urgency, hard to articulate.
But it also felt like hunger that kept growing in proportions. Today
I think I was walking, breathing, listening and feeling the accurate
quantities of the cosmos for an explosive roadside delirium..
So the music made you pregnant with a hungry poem?
Yes, it did. It impaled me and I loved it.
A frosty, uncomplicated afternoon detour can pin your heart to the sky I guess.