thingamabob

Today I imagined myself fainting, and as I did so, I felt moist lily papers fold to a dress, and smelled it’s jasmine scent. Cohesion of stream balls, spinning upright, fondle my toe nails. I saw a herd of girraffe like creatures with short necks waiting to be nursed. There were aluminium clouds to maintain levels of joy. Objects were not symbols, and scenes served no purpose. There weren’t any seeds in the peaches, and the grapes refreshed as crushed by the tiny fingers. Silver plates were put down on the floor along with plastic spoons.

I don’t know. I don’t know what I don’t know. I think I like it like that. I find myself staring at a person’s face, a television screen, or a dish covered with rice but I’m not really looking. I sketch some girls in my mind while having a shower because my components are not what you’d call thinkable. I wonder if people are really classified like that. I want to write about it. I try moisturizing the cracks in my head, but they’re too blatant. A pool of similar phrases rushes all over me, and they hush down my attempts. I untangle the dull threads but let them intertwine, a lovely combination, I imagine. But it’s not. It is as ridiculous as a group of spotted ducklings tap dancing on the wavering kitchen floor. They can’t get hold of you and shake you and scream in your face. They’re not silent either, and do not even have a mysterious air about them.

The Corner of Your Smile

If you ever let me stay,
In the corner of your smile,
Somber thoughts might wear off,
I’ve been considering this for a while,
Thinking of what’s been more than enough,
I’ve lost my mind somewhere there,
I think it also accomodates me.
So simple, yet complex,
Is the corner of your smile,
It’s so vast that we can leap,
To the hola hoop of Uranus,
And do some classy waltz,
It’s so minute that we must duck,
Under a bright lamp post,
Our laughter will echo till midnight.
Let me feel the breeze you inhale,
Let me be dampened with your tears,
Let me record your voice that speaks,
Let me tie up that loose string,
Of the corner of your smile.

I need to go out more.

I need to grow wings across my shoulders, that will give me a graceful look. They would be preferably handsome, white with a tint of cream, sprinkled with lilac glitter. They would be strong too, to carry all my weight. Off I would go, setting free all my fears; like tiny, little birds escaping from a cage. No one would watch me except the clouds, raising their eyebrows indignantly. Around the globe, and even universe, I would wander, often panting to catch my breath, but I would be alone. The little zebra would be in the background of my thoughts; if only, if only, he really was engrossed with my company… As I would glide through the sky above the Atlantic, I would pay him a visit. The little zebra would be fast asleep, for he never stayed up after his curfew. Finally, my toes would touch the ground and my cold fingers would be rubbed against his mane, gently stroking it, not even altering his dreams. I would kiss the little zebra daintily, without leaving a mark, because I never wore lipstick.