1) A God. A real God. Any color, bearded, buxom, or otherwise will do.
2) That I never got this high up on the evolutionary ladder. I miss my shell. I miss the slime that oozed forever. I miss the darkness of the calciferous haven. The cool of it. The isolation. The loneliness. The sacred escapes.
3) That I could be a Star. A Lone Star. That hangs up there, away from everywhere. It doesn't feel giddy at all. It's too far away from everywhere to know that it is, in fact, away. It's loved because its away. Because it's never there. Just.
I am sleepy.
i don't wish for a god anymore because i don't think i can believe in one.
ReplyDeleteand star. you are one already. down here is as delightful as up there.
and. you've been tagged. check my blog.
Oh well :P
ReplyDeleteSleepy?
ReplyDeleteDrunk is more like it.
Hey, please change the settings on your blog so that all your previous posts are visible too. I liked one of your earlier posts, and now I can't find it.
:)
ReplyDeleteSecond paragraph. Sheer poetry. :)
(")
ReplyDeletecolour: pink
ReplyDeletebearded: yes
buxom: very
*processingprocessing*
specimen name: santa claus
press: yes/no
(don't know why i'm writing this. i'm not high. i'm not.)