Angel Dust

A rush a rush a rush
A blush.
Life flows, falters, spins,
slips.
The stream jumps higher, hither-
thither,
painting and mixing the pinks, blues
the hues.
You are here alone, blown, grown
and thrown.
Close your eyes to see, hear, smell
a spell
as time spirals, dives, flies 
into the skies.
The smiles, the frowns, the rags,
the crowns
stretch, scatter, skitter across
the canvas.
Kiss the dance with green toes on 
purple floors,
follow the vanishing tail of 
grey rainbows,
stretch your arms to pluck the fruit
of clefs,
catch the lines to do-a-do-a-do
the tea, 
tickle the stars to shower in raining
laughs,
travel the roads of soft bubbles,
float,
swing and spin and
topple and tap.
Mix the swig or
take a nap.
Hop and hop
to junk shop
and never
stop.

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