wednesday, july 27th, 2005 5:26PM

a head's toward the sky this night, with rain drops falling, (i can feel it i think) (racing, racing, racing minds, hitting, hitting, hitting,(why? with forefingers inward) but not a single blow will land. this is a dream...i think) the acid there in of balance is but a whisper both given and listened cheek to cheek. but you're so far away with answers close quarters with questions that breath and beat the ass of a shaker. but who cares, salt in these wounds it'll sting and leave vapors of meat for the morning. left overs of me are still deathly boring (imagine that, clench fists and scalpeled hands with fingers yet attached and hair and skin between(on a platter)) this chest is bear and open to the infinity of this moment. what a dusk filled grey can do to this mind. feeble it resembles. feeble by definition. i'd open. i'd know it. if i could just... i'd loosen this grip, this illusion and slip this wrist, this edge in fist across chest to scalp my breast and leave open air illusions as proof to passers by of what i can't prove. that i am a man!?