• Life is only a series of moments. This may be a dream, or this may be a moment. It is the story of the brushing of the hot pink cheek of a brown eyed angel as she sits in silence smiling. The contentment of a single period of time. A time of want, of insecurity, of laughter, and possibly love; but what is love? No one knows. It is a feeling that is impossible to define, at least for me, since I have never felt love; so I cannot define it. This is the story of a dream, or the story of a series of moments, or maybe it is both; no one can say for sure, but it is a story of romance....
    Between the confined vertical limits of soapy white, the rain from a metal cloud beats down on the armor that confines my soul. The moister trickles off the fleshy coat and disappears into the hole of no return. The violet crescent moons of a century stack rising suns, and a life time of sleepless forgotten moons scar my emotionless exterior. The blue sperical safes reflected from the cracked insecurity giver, hide the pain, hide the emotion. This isn't a dream, but just a moment prior to forever. The fiberglass beast roars to life with the pain of endless to and fro. The journey of endlessness begins on another sun, another day. The black rivers flow the the robots of society, on their way to disappointment, to depression. Not me, I journey towards happiness, towards time, to her. The monster groans until it dies. The rubber scraps into the resting position between the sticks that where placed on the bank of the forever traveling river of darkness, finally... Arrival.
    To lift up my hand, and touch the soft porcelain skin of her face is all I want, but I can't; it is against the rules. To kiss the top of her head when we hug, but I don't. The thoughts that run through my head in the presence of the brown eyed angel make me believe that it should be me. Maybe this is only a dream, maybe nothing is real. The ash lifts into waves off the smoldering splinter of old life and floats into the dark abyss of fiction. Air that is gray surrounds my mouth and journeys into my nose. My eyes are clouded and sight is minimal at best. I listen to the wind that travels through the trees whispering the language of everlasting. They illuminate with orange glow and lift into a painted canopy of nature's existence. The florescent light dances with the shadows of the forgotten. The light and dark journey forward and twist together in a swirl of day and night, and then recede back. The glow flickers across green puzzle sky; like waves of an orange and red tide. The flames rise and crash, rise and crash. Listen to the sound of the ocean of fire, hear the crackles of the flames as they beat down and decompose the infinite pine. The eyes that can tell my pain form in the fury of dancing heat. This, I may say, is the dreamed. Created in the moment of sleepless sleep. Thought of to waist the time between now and then, then and now.
    Our papers are spread on the horizontal tan plane of sturdiness, and connects to the jagged, white vertical plane of strength, but those don't matter. The eyes of the brown eyed angel matter: her smile, her laugh, nothing more, or maybe everything for that matter. The way it feels when she hugs, the connection of energy, to sever the connection seems to get harder every time. It feels as if we are one, lost in the abyss of the hypnotic red, white and tan colors. Everything that surrounds us blurs into nothingness, spinning in a colored filled black hole. Life is just this moment in time. we are one, for now, to break the hold, to let go is almost impossible. I like this, maybe it is fate, or maybe not. I don't think it matters, all this matters; what is happening now matters, this moment; I wish it could last a life time. Can I make it last a life time? To tell her what I want means to break the rules; to break the code. Here smile shines like starts in the darkest part of night. I can look at her smile forever. It brings me home when I am lost, when I don't want to come back, this is what I think about. Nothing can be more pure.
    It is never enough to want something, to want her, to want to be with her. I can't tell her that, that is against the rules. Time comes, and time goes, new hours come, old hours go, life is still just a moment. It is what it is, and this is only a single moment that lasts forever. Her eyes stare into the depths of my mind, she knows how I feel. Her brown, beautiful eyes are perfection disguised in tiny circular orbs. I could stare all day at these eyes. They speak the language of perfection, of beauty, They speak directly to my soul.
    To sit and wait for the time that is always coming. Conversation, laughter, flirting, or all three always make my day better. There she is, walking towards me. God, she is beautiful, I don't know if I will be able to control my self today. I must remember to follow the rules though, she is already with someone. The sight of her causes reality to blur, all there is, it's her and me, me and her. The sight of her smile the sight of her eyes, God, I don't think I can control myself today. The singing voice of goddess Aphrodite lifts into the air.
    "Hey, how are you?" she asks me. I don't think she realizes that every time I hear her speak It takes my breathe away.
    "I am well," I am finally able to mutter as I stare back into her eyes. Her beauty is so amazing. I don't know if it is just me, or if there is another reason, but it seems that when we are together nothing else matters. It just seems so natural. If she was not with someone already, I believe I would take her for myself. Damn the rules, but they are the rules.
    "What are you up to?" Her heavenly voice sings to me again.
    "I am just working on my poems." Hmm... Maybe I shouldn't have told her that, The poem is about her. Maybe she wont mind. It seems that what ever I say doesn't seem to bother her that much. "Would you like to read one of them?" I further push, flirting a little bit.
    "Yes I would." God, her voice is so great, my heart skips a beat every time she speaks.
    "Okay, here. This is the newest." Maybe this isn't right, maybe I shouldn't risk the possibility of getting her to think more of me than of her boyfriend. Well, what ever the answer to that is, it is to late, she is already reading it.
    ...
    ...
    "Wow, that is really good"
    Ha ha, that makes me laugh; only if she knew it was about her. "Well it should be, it is about you" I tell her, but I think maybe I shouldn't have. It is against the rules.
    "Really?"
    "Yes, it is the first I have written about you, but it is not very good."
    "Why do you say that?"
    "Because no words I can write would really portray the thoughts in my head correctly." Wow, here smile, that was so bright, so beautiful. "Truthfully if I were to write the words that I actually feel, I would not allow you to read them." The truth, the truth is always so fun to speak. Her eyes glisten as I speak, they shine like the sun as it rises over the ridges of the mountains on a hot summer morning. Maybe it is just me, but when I look into her eyes I want her to see the real me, see who I want her to see, and when I look into her eyes I act as if nothing else matters, It is just her and me, me and her.
    Thumb through the splinter sheets covered in the ink of logic. Read the letters splattered on the lines from someone else's mind. Nothing said, nothing gained, everything on the foundation of studding is just words, just the knowledge of those who have had their moments in time.
    In the light of twilight's ending, dusk bellows with the sound of hunger. The meat of slavery smothered on the bread grown with the battered skin of a worker. Topped with the vegetables that cause tears to drowned the pupils of the eyes, All finished off with the sauce that runs from the sandwich and dances with the taste buds of happy ness.
    From the moons comes words of the nights departure. The time has come for us to say goodbye; something that is also difficult, but it is time and the light of the days past has nestled into the blankets of nights shadows, and from their dreams stars dance in the vast openness of wonder. I brush the hot pink skin of the brown eyed angel and tell her good night, until the next time we meet. This is not a dream to me.
    "Hey"
    "Yes?"
    "You know I want to be with you right?"