There is a point in time before entropy.

On the yellow couch beside a woman in burgundy and coffee
while music burns inside the bodies of the packed room and
steam levitate through the open windows.
I cannot hear her anymore although

her oral cavity is concentrated inside my ear.

I get up to find something more to drink.

The red cave is jammed with unfamiliar shapes,
scarlet, blue, brown, monochrome.

I feel like a Zeppelin drifting peacefully among

all these irritating rapid machines.

Finally, I see some features that I know,
and surely there is a revelation at hand;
yes, a gin mill full of wine.
But I need to go to the WC.

The yellow couch is occupied by someone touching
somebody under the textile when I get back.

These treasured soul mates with shaved limbs.

© Anders Enochsson 2009