I'm watching the glass being infront. Yes, it does resemble a person-- the wight is wearing human skin, bearing human flesh. Indeed, truly believable. A scrumptious piece. A surprisingly vivid mask. Everywhere and only sleek and sloping lines. Yes, the florid matted something reflects the light, it latches onto my eyes and eludes leaving. Flows to the brain and demands to be fathomed out, believed in. But I do not, I don't believe it. Glass hair stroking the neck, fondling the shoulders, wantonly caressing. Still arms touching the sides. Warm auroral air tides throbbing around the being. The form even pretends to breath air. Breasts evenly surging, silently watching. Shadows intensely dancing on the soft round belly. The spent shadows calmly droop, stay where the secrets darkle  ...

 Still I do not recognise the glass being. I cannot trust it.

futuristic

What a girl now reads in her shiny hologram I once had in my hand.

Till the time got around and burnt my finger tips

With every each 451 Fahrenheit’s degree.

Oh the height!

The flames went straight above the shield and hit the bound like doves.

The flares jumped over a field and singed the last bee.

What a beautiful clear night...

The idea of a dinner party now is gulping down the pills of food.

We don’t have time for treats, do you?

And so we work, we rush so jammed and dull.

It’s sad how we forgot the good…

The worst of all is that we pay for hugs.

We have these pricey guests who smile for money and wear vests.

We hide from the war within ourselves but there’s no luck.

It’s on the tips of our tongues!

We run.