Dancing in the Mists

Sea so faintly spritzed upon my skin washes my face again

In awakened bliss,

Far from places of sadness and pretended importance

That deceived my light into graves’ unappreciated wreaths.

These words fall from pouted lips as I must leave you to seek company with the shores of my free-spirited youth;

None as fair as my now and none so grand as the place

Where I know I always stand.

I am only here for just a speck in a mushrooms time and

Rhyme, I am, I must

Yes, and always, try to dance without fuss

My time is eternal and this moment as me,

Is but a dream of my own choosing

Can it be happy?

Will I be spiritually rich?

Is this felt knowledge my own epiphany of how everything is so perfectly kitsch?

I will dance inside the promised communion kiss

Hold the hand of one that lifts me above the grass

Just enough, so that I may continue

Dancing in the Mist

 

Leave a comment