Untitled

August 26, 2003

I've beaten my head against this wall too long.
Looking up at the sky, I see that I should be
lapping at my life like it is the cocktail of gods.
Ever increasing, though, is my need to know
if the gentle sway of my body to certain music
will lift me out of my plain-old existence.
I've been dizzy on the headiest experience
drawing me deeper and deeper into a mystery
I was trying to dispell from my mind.
It hasn't yet gone.
I'm still lingering
on the drunken sensation
of this unpurged belief.
I'm still waiting,
longing to make final the proof so long in coming.