Hectic Sequence

Beams of bright light that shimmer through his coat of red and orange fire up the yellow in his eyes and tingle my vision with a deadly maroon. I am on viscous water, drifting and floating in a stream of reverie and escapism. My ears can hear no other than the whirring of engines in the air. My skull rumbles and I juggle the possibilities in the haste transition of day to night.

Dear brethren, I have been beheaded, but my whole body is still intact? I lose myself in frenzied melancholy and steaming anguish and my dyslexia churns through the ripples of sea water, my mouth wanting tea and cucumber. My gasps hiccup in me and my story might as well end too soon. The wind prowls around my poorly bandaged skeletal frame and I am looping myself through hoops of camera clicks. Click, click, click! I speed down onto my bottom and sink. All I do is blubber... or shush. There's a screw stuck in my windpipe and I choke it out. It stumbles into the moon, and I am left seeing this from underwater, my eyes in salt water and bubbles trying to surface. Huff, huff, I cannot breathe. Hick hick, my inhaler is down here. Somewhere. My hair blocks my vision, and right after my thoughts strangle me. I cannot breathe, I cannot breathe, but I still hear a roar as silent as a meow. I am gone. The haze of Death comes upon me like sleep, like a spell. My memory is befuddled around cat eyes as I soar off...

As I soar closer... and fly helter-skelter and raise my weary arms to touch
the close of a dream. And still, my hands are drawn to hectic streams and lines of your majesty.