opium trip
the walkways turned to water that day and i followed you down them on our shoe canoes we rowed away to somewhere where there was someone waiting for us to feel close to them and it was just you and me there. me, with my obsession of isolating everything. what would define that if it were only in a white room and out of this context? and you’re so fucking cunning. why a white room? and all the water in the walkways reform like a bad record scratch, i have no idea how to respond and i’m back to reality. fuckit, p-money, because all the other colored rooms are full. and thats just good enough so we keep going while the music starts again some sort of charlie brown jazz soundtrack that i’ve never heard before but you make up words to your favorite songs as we roll along in the grass we start to roll around in each others thoughts and everything seems just fine for right now and if it changes, we’ll roll again.