ST152 ... in the hidden light of the night....
fleeting under a red umbrella
In the hidden light of the night, i saw you. On the shadow of love you swore you would be faithful to a mystery you'd never see. I believed you in my tremor and solitude, i let you blanket me with your burning fear and hankering lust. I wanted you so bad.
I escaped your clutch and swam ashore…. there, here i found shelter from your storm, your streets. There, sweet dreams floated about for no reason, silhouettes of velvet and silk danced across the horizons to pass the time away. This is the way of the warrior, the one whom life lives for, whom appears then disappears without a trace. Memory fails, time collapses, the moment lives forever. I saw you, i fell into your arms, i danced across the universe as one with you. Those were the days, that was special, as pure as pure can be, then the long death entered and never ended. I saw you blur across for moments and tingle your heart across my soul. Words died that day, there is nothing left.
I saw you in the mirror, there were many of you. The reflection folded over itself, mirrors upon mirrors; every image of you broke into a million pieces and each piece had a different reflection of you. You were broken, fragmented, dispersed, and each one as magnificent as another. That ended as i stopped writing.
In the end everything stood still, the fantasies lay dying on the curb, possessions blocking the heavens, love entangled in the mud and a soft silence brushed up against the scratches on the walls, freedom, finally, smothering it all.
Back on the street this silly little fellow stumbled up to success with a bundle of data and asked a million questions. Everybody answered yet nobody said a word. He was doomed for the edge, the abyss of possibilities, the terrain of dreams, the endless scouring of loveliness and treachery; life as a human was easy then, before the machine spread its steel claws across the crystal palace of mathematics corrupting the soul.
There is no hope for us here. Take that perfect breeze and float out across the skies, let that pure moment take you down where nothing can be imitated.
There is too much continuity in here, let me out, the noice is deafening, the breath of your form is blackening the winds. Your streets are filling up with junk, your future is turning into a circus, your air is thick of dead spirit, your shelter is numb, your innocence scrambled. I am here in this, swimming like a stone, flying with a broken wing, moving slender and deep and gliding. We shall make it, to that distant shore, it's written in the script.
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