At a gentle pace, we bike into the night
Dragging our half bare souls on the boulevard
Veered by dopamine towards the bridge
Where are we heading? You seem to be in no rush
There are no mosquitos tonight, only a pleasant air foretelling a beginning
Or perhaps an epilogue…
I kindle at the touch of your scar under my fingertips thinking
Why didn’t we chain ourselves along with those chairs, and keep the trees company?
Surrounded by all that green, what else would we need?
As soon as you cut me open you will find I bleed in colors
My tiny lips hover on the grass of your being, raptured by a moist sky that quivers
Quench a quadrillion times my thirst till I overflow…
Is the wine making me dizzy, is it you? It’s hard to tell
Caught in the reverie, I start tapping my little foot against yours
And our blue matching shoes surrender to this enticing game
So much playfulness, like the gurgle of a new born scrutinizing the world for the first time;
Here we are: a nihilist turned optimist, a camouflaged pessimist,
Soaked in wine, looking for answers somewhere in the South of France
What we find is a most satiating delirium
Undisturbed by filthy politics, selling campaigns, flashy advertising,
Away from products and notifications, we give ourselves to this utopia, never for sale
Le Midi awaits…
“I would like to hear you sing”, you say
And in that moment, music grows inside
In my flesh, each atom touches a different note,
A complex harmony between the chords and the sound of your voice
Sha la la la la la sing the pink flamingos at the blue lagoon
They serenade the peacocks with the most random tune, in a major key
All merely trying to vocalize their longing, can you hear them?

pink flamingos and peacocks
(c) Pink Flamingos by Elizabeth Blaylock (left); Peacocks by Veronika Přikrylová (right). 

Still, the time isn’t now,
A flower that has been wet enough to blossom but won’t bend to me
Only more tender today than yesterday…
And yet, if not later, when?
These two wavering boats, floating towards each other
They cannot go against the current now
Serendipity is calling, come a little closer
For I have never wanted you so much


An Artistic Kind of Management

(c) freedom writer

A little tribute to my favorite band at the moment. I first started working on collages while discovering MGMT music so I thought this was in order. I’m hooked on both right now.

And here’s the psychedelic version. Keyword: psychedelic (fans will know).

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