400 conejos

chill howls slit needles from firs and steer whimsy puffs to shade the moon like accordion blinds summer's last dying gasps just below the treeline snippity snap dragon spits sparks in the dark doesn't threaten me but don't want to be run down by a grizzly or chased by a moose just want to be here with Groot and 400 Conejos* you know all those stone circles in Scotland were fire rings for Giants who sat there pondering their existence like me, tonight I was probably there I just don't remember but I don't remember a lot of things like what did I do to be a free man who feels least lonely when he's all alone I believe it has to do with my twin flame in an epoch romance that rattled the cosmos split trillions of atoms and still reverberates look up above at that upside down jewelry case luxurious black velvet betwixt all that twinkle-twinkles it's all so vivid now I live forever... I could reach up into that black glass grab a diamond choker and collar Venus were I so inclined (subjunctive case if I "were" not if I "was" speaking proper sounds so fuddy-duddy yeah... I know) fuddy-duddy me I probably did ya know... campfire smoke and 400 Conejos pair so well dragon is growing soft and blurry his orange pot belly slowly snoring hissing steamy streams stings my tears to feel my life yearning for life I just want to be here my back on this dirt my head on this rock with Groot grizzly moose 400 Conejos and heaven staring down glowing red dragon rolls over spewing glitter like exclamation marks I hear you but do I listen Groot... grizzly... moose... 400 Conejos... do you do you... listen to me ok then...