High

We’re all seeking the same high.
above the gutters,
glamour.
Higher than the clouds,
blue skies.
It seems even beyond the cosmos...

That's too high perhaps.

We collide into one another
seeing mainly nothing,
fragments of something.
Not enough of something,
so we float onward.
We'll get there,
wherever our longing is headed.
Whatever our being is desiring,
beyond the pigment and muscles,
full lips and tragic eyes.

I like that we all seek the same high
not looking at each other,
averting the evident truth
looking down,
sideways with side eyes

Look up.