Waiting for glue to dry on this bridge I’m building to California, gosh this takes forever when you can’t help but stare at it, your path to glory the emerald city awaits, I can see it there on the otherside sparkling in the distance with a real wizard awaiting to give me my heart whom will tick tock tick tock away in my chest provide the rhythm to my steps, and courage too to this lonesome lion to best all manner of beasts in combat or in speech and a brain to boot to build a better birthday suit for two while flying monkeys descend to lend to each of us a hand to prepare and to defend ourselves against gravities own claims. We will to heaven for a visit on our way up to greet the stars for tea this afternoon, and dimension through dimension we’ll meet ourselves again through the extension of existential presence on each and every plane until at last when the evening’s past we’ll return to earth again. And in each arm an arm and in each leg a leg each lip does one long kiss entertain, tongues enjoined and eyes entwined deeper south our loins combined as softly love incarnates it’s pleasures gain then to sleep as lovers lie satisfied in their excuisite day as each let’s out a sigh of slumbering joy as each their prayers are met and made.
Dry paste I cry thou hast made me unduly wait, I can but now see my lover waiting across the bridge at that crimson Gate! And sadly as I turn the bottle I feel my hopes teeter, topple. “Wait til spring after applying, only then ’twill hold your gait.”