Stolid Conscience

So today, amongst the peppermint tongue of wisdom, we languidly swim laps around the world. We absorb the atmosphere and lick the sky off our fingertips with greedy grins. We dive to caverns hard pressed by the sea and swim with ionic, carnivorous fish gone blind with the lack of the sun. Two in each hand, held up by the tails. Then, in a push, in a leap off the sand gone to swirls 'round the imprint of our flying feet, we pulse through the sea and burst blue into skies as we trampoline straight into stardust and ink, leaving the fish in a gulp of exhaustion in space set in limbo with no gravity. We wind up the clocks to integrity's time and bite into luminous skins of the moon. We rule all the tides with our peppermint tongues and staple our breath to the last moment left of the world's unencumbered embrace. We conquer every last bit of the woods and leave there our footprints of continent size. Denting the earth with the weight of desires without any thought to the future of futures. As long as we fill up our bellies, with every last resource the earth can squeeze out, we go to bed brimming with thoughts of tomorrow with the sting of our wisdom a tragedy's lightning to score us in laser's which lack consequence 'till the moment that all becomes clear before dying and suddenly remorse beds our souls long obtuse and the moon turns her back as we weep. For conscience is something that shouldn't be left to the very last moment of breathing.