These Cloudy Nights Shine On The Skeleton Of Mary Jane

Ashen leftovers of last night's delights
a greenhouse sapped of form
flows
pixelating across reality
eons in the making
—now—
barely more than diamond dust

What pastel emotions free-flow wild wisdom inwardly outside the realm of common oblivion?

The Dancer dwells
one eye cast upon outer inward
one eye turned backward
—though body ambles on with jolly hedonism

Heart is caught between—
slowly
...........falling
.......................into
...............................gravity
...........................................of
................................................flaring
.............................................................emotion

Beat
beat
boom
pitter-patter falls the walls

Bared souls
bare soles
sauntering on
finding untold depths

What depths might future hold?

Patiently impatient
delve
I