octobered vanilla skies lingering high up there for a whole ending afternoon. what a miracle of a day afterglowing still from my saturday night reverie: daydream me into the fairness of our eternal youth, bits and pieces of sixteen, seventeen and all the hurry assaulting my heart under now known needless pressure. the sky was pink when i, strolling with the children, turned my eyes to see whether red or green lights, came upon an immensity of clouds seriously playing buttermilk in tones of pastel at an everlasting level all around. my thoughts electrified sent down to my lips an adequate smile disoriented by the rapidness of time contrasting excessively against the stillness of that cosmic canvas fully suspended wallpapering, above my head, the whole background: as if a sort of universe god had handed me out a magic life-long-gift, my body under my coat, my head spinning dizzy so much dye... my children ignoring the scene, my heart sunk in an autumn bloom: october raining softly to hit hard yellow leaves: the sky was pink the other moment when i was out showering under dawn casually forgetting, our love, an electronic rave, absorbed into familiar pieces, lengthening the vowel,  of stony wishes and tender nitey-nites.