blink. blink. i see only one gold link.
the day stands still, as does time. i think.
i am doing nothing, but yet, i indulge in crime.
i pine. i imagine his warm hands. on mine. the brink.
on that edge of thoughts i lay my drink. my wine.
i feel myself puff up. i raise. it all becomes: sublime.
i think. i feel the air beneath me start to shrink. decline.
a line is drawn between the sands of good. and grime.
it gushes out from between my ribs. in drops. the pink drops, i realize are ink.
they shine. i shy away from the thought of time.
i blink. i blink and i realize my shyness is a sign.
guideline. that is one thing that i keep inside: my mind.
plastic rose 