Space Disco (from some time ago…)
I found myself drowning in topaz star bubbles. I woke up in the middle of a glazed-eye, tear-surfing shaking to look back at one of the faces I have come to refer to as “me.” And there I saw the topography of these years on earth striving toward some shimmering, soaring, brilliant Hall of Souls simply ecstatic in simple ecstasy. Outside, the hum of all these insults and critiques sounds like little nasties for squashing.
Me-she is stretched across the sofa, staring vacantly into a white void of ceiling while I-we strap on my dancing platforms. 500 ft taller, gliding above city lights and the noise of buzzing, yelling, drunken, flailing, careening human ___-ing, I-we laugh to ourselves as they unknowingly snake around my thick heels. Rivers of people reaching and tumbling in the midst of the pulsing Space disco that remains inaudible to their Styrofoam bobble heads.
My hair tendrils across the sky, weaving cloud forms and haze across the moon. The palette expands at every rock, swing and sway. Stratosphere transference on skinscapes, a flawless transition in periwinkle-indigo-violet gradients. Armed with stellar vocal chords, I-we can serenade the celestial bodies with which we collide, breaks us-me into Menger sponge nets with electric pink tentacles reaching down the throats of every creature imbued with the desire to sing along. Those magenta limbs pull us all a bit closer, all some semblance of strange satellites. Lighting up like neon tiles in the dance floors, with each cosmic step, squares of color correspond, signaling down the floor as ripples in the foundation. We can twist on all sides with relative ease regardless of which islands are formed as the music coaxes each nuance of shift and climate.