allure hangs my
suspended disbelief
to the third floor, door number four this time,
been here before too.
my god, instant recog ignition
all there. all on.
her siren call burns me so immediate
my thought plugs fry
useless
must go look for their bits, I guess on the floor
and oddly enough,
barely see a red light, blinking small, just quite
tiny really, on my shoe.
strange
but a rope smoked from her flame
flys ME back to the moon alice
into a
crystal gaze sweat drop
reflecting you know who
and that whack
cherubim
terrible
off stage door left.... behind the potted plant
sips pink drink, and smiles slightly
pointing.
Monday, March 06, 2006
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