That time, this place.

Can you see that scent over the horizon?

Scorched across the back of your tongue, like that first tequila of the night, what a time to be alive.

I feel it, ebbing along my eyelids. REM’d flickering across the sparkly dust that dreams are made of,

That shadow of light.


There it is, inhaled. Saturating my lungs with light, happiness burns?

A happiness of this time, this moment, this memory.

Actions speak louder than words but we are the thoughts of our actions.

It blows, It blows, It blows. Can you hear it?

It’s there if you listen softly, be still, you’ll scare it.

Swirling gently I can feel it, it caresses my cheek, my tears, my laughter.

It knows because it’s been there all along, always patient, unyielding and stubborn, sad in its measured outlook.

Come with me kind soul lets go on a journey you and I, to a place of our own choosing our own time,

Choice, what a powerful idea.

We’ll live in this time, in this place, with a depth of feelings empty of emotion.

Let me feel,

Yes I feel, its euphoria, this time, this place, and it is remembered, always.

And we search, we run, we bound along in between the spaces of reason and stardust. Forgetful and never forgotten.

It’s in all of us

                           it is the time of our choosing

                                                                                     it is the memory of ourselves

it is the time and place

                                                      it is us

                                                                                        it is happiness.

Paisajes de Fantasia 51

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