JASMINE MUSIC
A staple of time is the moment running down :
clock hands dripped and melted, music slowing
to a halt. This world stops - and we need fear
nothing, for there are others, and they step to the
fore. Myriad worlds of opportune meanings, deep
skies leading to others, doorways opened to rooms
of cash. Proverbial speakeasies, musics on tap.
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If I lived in a universe of one, I'd be dead already:
the single constabulary of a stopwatch world can do
nothing for me - I need the opportunities of magic and
charm. And I get them from within. Every mingling voice
I hear leads me on to something else. I would kiss you, even
your shadow alone, if I found it passing in my cosmic hall.
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