Brian

Brian was unrelenting in his passion. There was no hole to go through anymore. He had flipped the world upside down and had watched it dangle on his finger, And now he was sitting dejected. Stuck in the middle of his small apartment, Roommate-less, rent-less… And then women appeared. Like small flocks of doves, They wafted into his apartment One after another. Looking for a bedroom. A conversation, A good time even. Maybe. Suddenly the world began Its old familiar roll. And Brian was no longer dejected. I say this in the spirit of Old Vice; Love’s Creator. That when Brian reflected, Not on the women appearing Like a bowl of grapes into his lap, But on the system of the stars, He was caught. In the Wonder of Time. And, moreso, the Brilliant Lyricist That is Time. Brian. Lost in his woods. Lost in his apartment. Lost in Grateful Waters. His eyes swimming through hearts.