How Can I Drive If I Can'T Keep My Eyes Off the Sky

Soul surrender, each reach opaque, gathered incomplete gain; all willingly given for millisecond sight of sky as was eons ago, day guide towards monolith riseth ten thousand kilometers. Crowned temple as arches multiply and vie for attention by exhale ever so slightly to glorify manifestation of timid illusion, glue to stone seat stare blank blue hue blink. Envision outside Smith’s grocery store, poisonous pack concealed in cellophane wrap pounded upon palm to situate tobacco properly. Corner clarity bare witness stretched weathered skin fallen upon weary bones, a dusty duet walk, pull trigger in longing serenity lapse moments as weak, draped in silence. Half hunched over little time prior to cruel muse grip. Left of man lurches ahead in front, near dry woman cuts right. Woman cries out, “the car is over here,” in crackling strained voice. Shout carries in breeze to hearing aid. Man halts, confusion infection injects sense, fifteen yards distance but reluctantly switches direction to join other shortly. He speaks. “I knew that,” quip in deep toned disbelief by woman who vocalizes doubt. “No you didn’t, not to mention you’ve been doing that a lot lately.” Adjacent to one another couple takes gravel path to vehicle, twenty-two car crash inevitable seconds later. Life is but a dream. When you die, you wake. Stay asleep, eternity creep close, potential outcome grows to singular eventuality. Law obsolete, physics but self, capability extends hallucinations, and being hinder significant beauty wither. When stop, smile.