Saturday, March 17, 2007

mister, mister.

i am falling down into my seat; my seat is hugging me.
lights on high way are dragging their feet, leaving tails of colors.
music is crawling my ears, my eyes, my hands, and my heart.
on my face, winds, unrested souls, that smell of florida.
just right temperature, just right humidity, just right vibe.

am i dreaming?

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