Wednesday

From space to space
after you went off
I sat a while
Not more than an hour
I heard a house lizard ticking
The paintings are not yet finished
The ceilings are composed of bricks
And some tricks
I have killed
The time
I have read
The leftover trash
I have worn
Your spiked jacket
With my slippers on
And Zeppelin, Doors, and a glass of champagne
I have drink my thoughts
No stars outside
It is silent
In the middle of downtown
I have no idea
My brain was composed of million dust
I have watched the entire city dying
I was not flattered, I was just assuming
All dusk
I think of your inks
Your bloodstained picks, and steaming wheels
In the crowded street
The wind was
Quietly flowing in pieces
Frantic
Like a glitter of seas
Or sea of glitters
On to her perfectly long blown hair
Her red dress
Her innocence
Her statuesque shadows
I did not see her flaws from where I was standing
Beauty queen
I have drank the remains of the day
Your voice
Inside my head
Your painted skull
In my beating heart
When these beauties broke all the mirrors
Off the walls
The walls
The walls
And your paintings chatted
Through my holed walls
We could never hear other noises
But our voices
Beneath the dark blue skies
If they blame us
Whenever they hate us
It must be
It will always be
For our delusional presence
And surreal actions.