Tuesday, 17 May 2011

Like A Dream

My feet are floating above the fuzzy ground
My inner ethereal beauty in captivity
Blurred vision but sensitive to the touch
like soft feather swept against my soles
There are more than three melting clocks
with deformed faces here and there
and a woman with drawers as her breasts
I am walking on invisible stepping stones
Everything is surreal
I am surreal.


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