touching

trapped in a thought

hovering between a

suspension of wake

and a place where my mind's wing span

touches heaven

tip to tip

off on a fantastical cliff

overlooking retrospect

reaching out to crystal images

rippled on fluid

seeing what i want

forgetting what i don't

wading in the pleasantry

of before

i'm wrapped in this thought

like cashmere on cold shoulders

feeling snug

sinking into these memories

smiling at yesterday

feeling the sway

closed eyes

opening my spirit

to the panoramic view

of the bigger picture

damn...

why do i keep forgetting to blink?

to refresh my mind's eye

to wipe away the sting

of tired peeps...

i keep drifting on a memory

neglecting to take note

of the current events

it's pull

and the deep dip

approaching in rolling

thunderous

crests of denial

...not that my memories are less true

never happened

or meant much

but...

they do ripple

in distortion

out of sync

and proportion

not sitting flush

with the conclusion

which is...

that i'm touching

on a memory

with no feelings for me

no love for my lulled senses

no care for my frivolity

casting me away

on memories

that will remain such

and numb to me

...i'm touching

on something

grasping

at something

needing it

whatever it is

to be better than

what's waiting

for the minute

i open my eyes

and see

that i haven't touched

anything at all