Blissful Thoughts in the Backseat of Longing
I remember when the clouds sang silently to us each morning.
And summertime rang and rose up throughout halls.
The vibrant glow of the waking sun leisurely climbing the walls.
As towers cast drastic shadows that sliced into that desolate concrete jungle.
Corner stands billowed redolent palatable swirls. Good eats.
How the smell traversed amidst the mucky staleness of that inimitable city.
Ambitiously navigating it's way to my sniffer. Successfully.
Reminding me that it's never too early for a fat slab of meat.
Early morns in pants with no legs and shirts with no sleeves, hair tousled.
We gathered. Sitting in our customary annulus, as the ancients once did.
Igniting that small flame that burned through noon into night.
Our relaxed giggles expelling vibes of harmonious contentment among us few.
Night rolling over our glorious city.
While lights began speckling the cosmic steel landscape like small square suns.
As our eves were ruled by haze.
Twirling in blissful plumes and spirals towards the ceiling.
But we never once saw the ceiling. We didn't know it was there.
Distracted as infectious laughter spread like wildfire through our hearts.
Splitting our sides with joy as our elation spilled out through the seems.
While we existed with brilliant illusions of endlessness.
Like superheroes we guarded the gates to our incompleteness.
Allowing our moments to be numbered with grace and beautiful ignorance.
We relished in our most elegant of times. Before life would move on without us.
Without me.
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