Technicolour Air

Our reflections blaze inside the glass house, iridescent crescent moon traverses, afloat. You climb the nocturnal rainbow that uprises from our land to the celestial space, supernal happiness around you I could sense. Opalescent wings grow upon my back, I drift in ethereality while you’re ascending still to the transparent clouds, aimlessly.

We dance underneath polychromic fireflies and pearlescent stardust, with light shower of silver dew twirling beyond and above. I’m a disregarded fairy and you’re the disgraced child, together we voyage to the never-true Neverland. I swim in vacancy and you dive in nothingness, our cognition sinks deep beneath delusional overjoy. Holographic memories of ugly streets, exhausted eyes, untold notes, empty pinot noir, all hanging below over-caffeinated minds of two adolescent who—at that point—just start seeking sanity.

Our phantasm begins fading as you breathe the very last smoke and I drop my final bordeaux, slowly descending to the oblivion. The world is black and just as fine, waiting for us to dance the night away.


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