| View Blog
|
|
|
|
| molten thoughts rushing |
So much depends on a thought. Like a race car tracing circles in my mind, a thought gouges its way through my peace and tranquility. It ruptures my sense of self. Its hands pull down bricks of the temple where my soul resides. Exposing the bright heat of my inner core, flowing out over everything I say and touch, burning everything in its path in slow billowing waves of molten metal and rock. A quarry of ideas I mine for a diamond, finding nothing but pyrite and bits of glass.
The right thought inspires frenzy. It dislocates all other thoughts in my head. It cleaves to my nerves and spinal column and takes control. A thought laced with heroine singing itself assiduously in my mind until I build towns with bridges and tunnels around it. Give it a home, a place to senesce into ideas. A new world begins to flourish in me. I become a stranger in a strange land.
|
|
Posted by laura_may on 2009-06-23 17:47:24 | Rating: | Views: 30
|
|
| |
|
|
Email This to a Friend 
