Constellation Dreams

Lenses meet eyes with silky pools of salty solution; my vision glazes over because the planets in my eyes are too tired to orbit.

I have much to consider, always thinking, always trying. I am always dreaming up constellations, mapping them out and making sense of it all. But sometimes my thoughts collide and I have no clarity at all except for the screaming organ in the pit of my core.

Just before my bones collide with the asphalt, I feel my body float in mid air, only infinite for one second before the sensation fails me. I step on tiger stripe shadows, like slender black fingers grasping at the bleached cement. The hot, yellow ball of light radiates through heaven and hell, collapsing at every dead end and drawing shapes on the streets with thick black charcoal.

Today I feel very lost, yet very at home.