"You said go slow... time after time"
This is how it happens.
Slowly, illuminating all the motionless world of time between
As a stream of lava
Light streaming out of the sky.
It happens, love, desire, a cocktail in the middle.
It happens. I mean it moves, I mean it walks.
Rocking and rolling, trapping an archangel of the soul between two visual images.
It happens, it's not calm, it passes
like mercury of mad patients, like stones exposed to the meteors in outer space.
From time to time, where you bang on the piano the soul that, innocent and immortal should never die ungodly...
Falling in love is weapon, desire is lightning, pleasure is moment.
It goes slowly, carryin dreams, adorations, hallucinations and illuminations.
It has seasons, it retires to Mexico to cultivate summers
or demands Russia -accusing the alps of never ending winters-.
It suffers from Colombian naked mind for love into a Slovenian autumn where two bodies are good to eat a thousand years, their brains, their imaginations and some Birmingham jazz incantations.
It finally brings you tulips from Amsterdam, from Holland, as an ambiguous souvenir around spring.
It is a home-made juice of slowness
preparing to sweeten the snatch of the sunrise and to vanish a vision of the ultimate sunset.
It happens, it fades out in road movies
it shifts in dreams and wakes up to fall off the bed and continue along the floor and down the hall.
It rises from Alcatraz and reincarnates in the ghostly clothes of jazz and sweet old blues.
It grows, it is supreme and it continues.
It evolves, it transforms...
It lounges Christmas carols, smoothly,
giving kisses because kisses make your own internal cosmos vibrate, at your feet, instinctively.
It's a hunch, a beat, a sonatta,a Rhapsody in red and it happens, but slowly.Now Playing:
Christmas carols played at home. Best served with:
Black cup of strong coffee.
.:Lo wrote this at: 4:26 PM:.