Thursday, November 5, 2009

Like A Drug Trip That One Time When I Was On A Drug Trip

Purveyors Of Mothers Milk
shrouded in smoke,

eyes open to the kaleidoscope

shimmering in the darkness.

black and white abstractions strafe

sensory channels,

flashing,

contorting

into desolate trees

turning in the horizon.

dreaming and drowning

dreaming and drowning.



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