We drive a drown and drive again.
Running on a road of feathers
Passing nowhere and heading to nowhere.
Climbing a mountain of stairs
Reaching the summit we pulsate.
Light streaks through the rafters,
Columns of dust sway in a non existent breeze.
Ribbons flare over the purple sky.
They duck and dive, tensing the orange water
Next to the blood red grass. Alone a single doves wanders.
Inverted is the world alone, half of it missing.
In bed sheets she wakes, colors in the right place.
Flesh still next to hers, life still in her veins.
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