Speckled-Fate

This hour, The sleep in my eyes reaches their Crystallization point and Have long oxidized their sparkle. Osmosis heart, too much water Locked behind smiles, diluted Weariness. Where did all the days go? Down the drain? Through the gutters? Past my capillaries and Into the sea? (Follow the morning star And travel light) I can see the lamplights Along this road, and I know She is here for me, He is there for me, But I am somewhere over the Rainbow, wondering if I should Trade bluebirds for the pot of Gold. I'd trade these minutes for stars, Not ones on certificates but Those that sing silently. I guess he dipped his fingers into The storm

 “aquarius, you have fallen in love with the storm again,” the august horoscope reads. it is almost—but not quite—correct. for the sake of astrological accuracy it might be revised to read, “aquarius, you have fallen in love—” (this part may remain) “—aquarius, you have fallen in love in the sticky heat of summer, the air as damp as your skin, heat rising from the tarmac of this flat swamp town.” or perhaps, “aquarius, it will not feel like a storm. there will be no lightning bolts, no thunder. there will be no fire under your skin.” “aquarius, your love will be