fifth
date
breathe-breathe-breathe-breathe-breathe
. . . yeeeeaha.
A
note in a bottle from the sea
of
our collective breathing.
The note says;
“we are guardians but on welfare.
We only sip from our futures.
We
profit from memorable re-enactments
of our allegiance to fear.
We inhale as a salute to these acts.
We exhale as feedback unexplained.
We are the hardback editions
of the art of emptiness.
We ornate our selves with conscious tasks.
We walk amongst it all as if it were mass.
We dwell in carbon experience
as if it were the truth.
We acknowledge with alchemical smiles.
We have blissful slaves of dreams
that tangle and tango with the speed of light.
We have telekinetic tongues
The tips of which demystify the chemistry.
Sense is our ephemeral one hand clapping.
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