Panning of the Vein

For a time we all must go away, like orphaned memories whos' only wish is to remain... like windchimes in a hurricane we lose the scent of song of self of flesh seeking to find what we think we want and wish for- For a time we must all go our way, running swift to gleen the chain to stroll from happy-saited-just to suckle pain: lone lemming on the slippery edge, for a time we all must go away- Making trails like saturns rings crossing minds with death's clear intent, the opaque of pleasant things, (brittle creatures in metal galaxies) seeking whats inside our veins... for awhile despite the truth of denial like sandcastles in a driven rain piece by piece or whole grain we all must go away but we'll come back full(bloated) circle after a thorough panning of the vein when the path back home sings like a golden finch, post-warm hearted rain... for a time we all must go our way- for tracie and linda