Spurs In My Poppies

As magellanic clouds collapse into a spoon
i wander off... my satchel strapped to my salubrious stride.
my eyes unmanned. now binary soul nova
resting on my cheekbones... boring holes in the landscapes
to catch a glimpse of the carousel underneath. 
spinning on it's side.

perpetual.

While bathing in the last rays of a bright idea -
receding; in accord with epiphanies of mellifluous delight.
my lifespan, now an Always without a comma -
blessed by new bones... thin as reeds to take flight and escape.
where other worlds gleam in the Labyrinth -
night deprived.

unfathomable. 

[ can't wait ]