I imagined the life of a kite today. The sky outside (as I was inside, in my cave, looking outside wistfully) a blue canvas splattered with white cumulus, edges dipped in grey. It beckoned for a kite; simple and red.
Freedom, sometimes we feel we’ve not enough; sometimes it buries us in its limitlessness.
They are dancing tonight in jewel coloured masks; royal vintages and emerald vines; drinking from a well of youth. I’d like to pour bourbon into my veins and age, until I cannot discern where I stop and the next warm body begins; sticky sweet under a hundred proof glaze.
I’ve no bourbon tonight, just a dream. I’m traveling to New Orleans aloft a simple, red kite. ~