Come with me in this corner. I am blowing bubbles of illusion. Kaleidoscopic comforts, they are sweet, very friendly, very warm.
They make you feel good ' therapy for a night with endomorphin surge. Only, they do not know themselves so well. Like me, they seek, probably from me their truth.
I do not know when they had me changed. I left myself behind the part that once sounded like me. But the one, now hopping high and low surfing new turfs, is also me.
Blow with me some bubbles Before they cling to you like vacuum let them drift away... When night opens its big, black mouth they will burst one by one.
Words will then sleep exhausted until the next round of illusions...
