The diaphanous cloud that opens holy minds to dream lingers still
Stark, like light in the cold morning afterglow of apathy and gin
Slim cigarettes languishing in slim fingers
Eyes darting wildly
absorbing the empty spaces left worn between souls

This new embrace is different now, distant
A paradox of entities in flux
Hedging bets against the future with
wings turned against the wind
Hoping for some grand new illusion to rise

Racing away into a better unknown for the sheer
raw joy of movement
For the sheer raw joy of joy
Music rising in laughter set sailing through void.

And the void calls out for company
Transmitting memories of the softest morning dreams
Feather pillows and footy pajamas, country quilts
sheltering against tin roof thunderstorm evenings
and ghost stories told in the dark

Autumn in its harvest golden splendor
Steam rising from cider mugs
Frankenstein’s monster lumbering
mad across the screen

Homecoming nights alive on the dance floor
Mesmerized by another’s eyes
Imagining a million wild futures where love will save the day
Waiting breathlessly for that special moment, to rise
The best dance saved for time alone

Caught up in our own tender savagery
Our own lone crazy world
Hoods raised against November’s chill
Left to slide lost along sidewalks
linked in lust until the silence of misty dawn

Better together than forever alone
Safe from the burnt husk of nuclear family
Happy wraiths amok in faceless crowds