rooftop smiles

Staring in to a strangers glass you don’t want to recognize the face looking back.
Whispers of songs come through the doors and walls.
Familiar music playing from a distant time that has no date and holds no particular circumstance. Only shorts glimpses of faces.
We are great friends with the space of time each individual song takes up. A glazed over world in muted tones.
A record disc bass line bent and scratched by the pressure of needles. Soaring, dreaming injections. Time depends on the beat of the music. Skip a beat and time skips with it.
Unsure if what you are seeing are flickers of movement or just delayed seconds before transition. Shorter and shorter bursts. Each defying boundaries of a minute. Madness minutes.
The land where everything is metaphorical and everything straight forward.
Echoing absences that cover the skin. Broken head phones and trailing lamp cords. Pitter patter on the mind.
Each drop recording like shaky first year  film students. I wonder if eddie* will ever call again.
Marihuana cigarettes burning dents in my fingers and dents on my ashtray mind. Well moulded bowl of clay. Random striking quotes that ring clear “ art is a lie which makes us realize the truth…” secret longing to look like the unfit role model characters we find.
Heavy eyelashes and battered arms.