Bled To Sleep

Simulated heart beats, memories bubble up in flumes of amber, jackets of indigo.

The daylight feeds the still small gaps between labored breathes that unlike smoke signals from the heart dissipate, vibrations grow still.

All night long the fleeting houses, and the undertow begging for more under foot, then knee, the whole body lays up in forever posed contortions.

Frequencies match, then float along in the following chorus spots where heartbeats grow cold.

The brutal silence buckles as the foundations from ancient of days crumble into the defacto landfill that only consumes lights that burn off the miracle miles into ancient slumber.

The breeze caresses, and lungs grasp for more substance than the gaslight their fed, as the lines circle the green of the radar. 

Follow the leader as the limp, grow cold, and wash out to sea.

Dreams explode from synaptic houses into confetti, liquid rainbow that washes out with the rain.

Calm is the flow.

Over and out.

The transmission ends.