Ruby Red,
take me far from here,
down to the depths
of your ocean
where the bubbles melt like
ice cream
dancing on my tongue
and the seasons
change
from dark to bright
to a mellowed out
tangerine afternoon
of blissful laughter
evaporating into the wind.
Take me to your
sandy shores
of sugary rims
and lime wedges,
where worry is a fable
and time was heard of once
but has lost its
meaning in translation
from generations of
storytellers
that tell of lands far away
who still hold onto strange customs
of deadlines & agendas
and carpools & schedules,
shopping lists, calendars,
and an odd little book
of numbers & decimals
that must be catered to & balanced,
but that always manages to
still lean to the left.
Ruby Red,
whisk me off to your island
so I can walk your
shores of eternity
and wrap myself in your
breath of salt
and lose myself in the call of the sea
as I drift into oblivion
after drowning in your sweet kiss
of icy cold warmth
and your dizzying seduction of daydreams.