pandara

Figuring out the world is not an easy task. So many thing tucked into so many nooks and craneys. The life experienced is such a trip. Conversations in every corner. To be a fly on the wall of life. Oh sweet life. I sit and listen to you moment to moment to fucking moment. Not only do the days get shorter and the nights got long but the nights get shorter too. Time a momentary lapse between the cosmic consciousnesses. The energetic transfers from one being to the other. Jumping off one building of thought into the window of insanity. She seeks the answer in every inhalation and every exhale looses the question. A minute filled with seconds of sand on the beaches of a calendar in the life of a woman in the dusk of melting sun into the oceans of mine and yours and every single lustless life form in existence. We know not what we need, what we want, who we are or where we live. The confusion of desire is the confusion of the cellular memory of our ancestors ancestors and nothing ever changes. A bite to eat would be nice. A drink of everlasting time and hope and crystal clear thought would give me hope. Hope for the next and the next to the next and the one next that. Only now do I know. I know I know I know I know. Only now my breath is deep and the water is clear and the air is fresh. Forgive me for the conversation that you spoke as I sat like a fly on the wall listening to each and every word you spoke of your private tales. I was there. I heard you and you have no words that are free of my thoughts in this instant that I call now.