Dreaming of a woman’s touch that has no webs attached.
Loving every scene found.
The home made into a fantasy.
Feeling the absurdity with an oddball urgency.
You may never see this kind of a show again.
Go deep into it.
Feel it connect from the earth to your feet;
through your nose;
out the back of your head via your eyes;
and to the outer edge of the universe and back around to your startled face.
What am I?
I am a comfort seeker; a deprivation fear machine.
I am a hole in the center of this automaton that wants this, that and the other.
What’s willed by the grandiosity of all will arrive curbside – ready for me and I for it.
I am imagining it, God delivering and the holy ghost dazzling the two with sweet actions unfolding.