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...devilish nightmare, that I am elated to be a part of. Cold, rip roaring winds, drizzling snow, watch my plane nighttime dream, and sneezing love, crunch through the heavy Boston streets. Our silent, yellow, driver is a compliment to the crazy dreamer just hours before. 


    Tip-toeing through thoughts, the friendly buildings open their arms once more, to welcome weary travelers home; mind exhausted, I think of Blue, his beautiful tone, passing through the winterized air of mid winter dreams. The days I forget, of free believing, dreamy thoughts oozing out my mind, into my hands, scraping such mad images into the blank pages of unfettered times. 

    Once, I was lost, frozen confusion battered me daily; now it is the Blue sky I can look to, climb four floors to a snowy, January roof, climb into a blossoming sky and hand my soul to Blue, his awesome array of dreamy thoughts, soul scorching melodies, that Blue and I can now revel in praise.

whistle with me

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