no need to cry

middle weak coughing wednesday sunny chlorine morning. paint scorched off blood-shot byork trembling walls and how i'm seemingly so uninvolved and peaceful. sure, the swings of the pendulum are uneavenly balanced and this quaint equilibrium may crumble to fire consuming dust in your absence. that's why my consciousness dictates my permanence in the shell of this uneasy sanctum. i'll recall this time later on as a new stage, troublesome, hillarious, lively, no pretence, no need, not having to care since nothing could dissociate this slumbering memory from my future temporal lobe. jazz on the sidewalk of the table kitchen, smouldering pavement under the thumping of the unusual marching-band:me, you, you, us, they, them... saxophones, pianos, trumpets and soulful voices. like a sun won't you come...and brighten my eyes to the unreflected deflection of surreptitiousness. i unfold my smoky wings over stratospheric shouting...listen and stop pouting, infinite disapproval and remorse could clutch at your heart and expiate your sins. these rays banging on glass, curtains, your retina.