venetian curtain over blocked windows
grid patterns and light dance on the carpet
while the shimmering gold haze
of autumnal splendor peeks inside
asphalt trails and allow coaches intrude
on the scene of the morning
i look over the horizon
to see the pale blue sky and foamy clouds
sedating me,
telling me that all is well
in my own voice
eternal conversations enrapture me
as i float over the wishwash of civilization
the sun, my mentor,
winks at me as if to say
open up, open up
i open myself and see the universe
and the abyss of nothingness
i try to shut me, but it is too late
my guts have seeped out
everything i am made of
is floating in the sky
it always has and always will