Naked grapes
The soapy skin
Unfurl your wings.
Your milk-white nudity.
A terrible angel visits us
In that darkest of darks
Where pixels get lost.
“A gentle soul dreams of becoming something.”
Heart flow stops.
It’s the chemicals
It’s the Dopamine verse.
My head tingling with small sensations.
I imagine a centipede entering my body
But that centipede was me all along.
Save you from over used lines.
In other words the world becomes me.
Cigarette butts litter
The rats are taking over.
Soon the lizard brain will take over.
Then there is no hope
And even time will fade.
If any of this was a dream
And I don’t know what is worse.
And then a butterfly appears
Lost in it’s journey to become something.
(c) A.R. Minhas 2020
