anticipation

It is a good life that I have. In between the cracks courses blood that looks so much like gold and often we never want to stop. It were like magic how words found spaces to fill and how we tumbled in after them so willingly until we were swimming in something that must be divine- the ultimate creation. And the air in my head is all static cling- endless activity of something possible. Something utterly inevitable. Men walk down the street singing (la la la lalala ladidilala) to no one in particular which I think is great. Reflections of everything that is. Happening. The Books sing to me and make me feel balloons of energy climbing through my windpipes and through my nose. I hope to sing to you like this for always.