Tuesday, May 31, 2005

Phototrope Dope


on top of a sphere rotating wildly on it's axis
in the wide open outerspace universe,
we feel the silence and emptiness and vastness,
the heavy air that is this whole universe,
blowing through our hair, curling across our necks,
rushing over our nipples, creeping cooly over our bellys,
rushing between our legs and tickling our feet
as we become one
living breathing twisting, writhing, moaning piece of matter
wetly clinging on top of this fucking sphere
rotating wildly on it's axis

in the wide open outerspace universe

and every time we touch it's like:
an eightball of caffeine rushing to my brain,
the mellow cling of marijuana smoke soak, soaking in,
mushroom paranoia twinging --
tick, tock, tick,
focus on sound, intense attention to detail,
visions surreal,
ecstacy induced rigidity, sensitivity to touch,
while sinking slowly into sheets, drip drop dripping,
seeping,
becoming one with the opiate that is us
anaesthetic Angel dust sprinkles down,
as my spine relaxes and curls towards you,
phototropistically yours,
you are my phototrope dope.

by DJ Press Play

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

<< Home