the fog, the fog, the fog...

i walked out of the mail factory into the deepest fog i have ever witnessed. i could not see ten feet in front of me. the orange, artificial glow of the street lamps illuminated the thick fog. an eerie glow radiating from above. surreal and claustrohphobic. it seemed as if the clouds fell from the sky, attempting to suffocate the earth. suspended from the atmosphere,clouding perceptions, clouding visibilities. finally the weather mirrors the landscape of my mind. bleary and muggy. vague is a state of mind. incoherent thoughts, fractured contemplation, nebulous intentions. obscured perceptions. i try not to breathe in the dense air but my lungs are longing for the humid comfort. it is pitch black without a star to follow. i manage to swim through the layers of fog to reach my car. my headlights shooting two thick beams of light straight ahead. their luminescence accentuated because of the heavy clouds. i felt as if i was driving a spaceship. feeling displaced and alienated from my surroundings. instead of speeding through the light years of space, i am grounded with wheels and speedometers. a martian turning a circular wheel in a collection of metal and oil welded together by the japanese. us aliens study the sociology of asians and beavers. we can diagnose a language for defects. amiable our intentions are. traffic lights seem to float in the air. the eerie glow of red cascading down through the composition of the fog. they turn green and the red still lingers on my windshield. the fog seems to slow the speed of light and sound. like the density in my mind, my thoughts surrender to the suffocating gloom. verbs ascend and nouns plummet below sea level. never correlating to complete a thought. vowels struggle with other vowels. a copulates with e because the absence of consonants has been too long. almost incestuous. an overcast flooding the mind exposing secrets to fabrications. buoyant and elusively existing in this crippling fog. where does my mind end and the exterior begin. mirrored landscapes confusing materiality and a state of mind. transparent, gray, and intangible. the fog of consciousness. the fog of contemplation. the fog of early morning reflecting the fog of mind.

...
you're the cereal that never goes soggy in my soymilk.
the beat my heart follows
like depeche mode in a sweaty club.
the two headlights at the end of the (cliched) tunnel
are your eyes.
brown-eye collision.
you're even numbers, sunday mornings
and brand new socks pulled on my feet.
the first pen scratch in a spiral notebook.
you're a full tank of gas with miles to go.
the words: ponder, contemplate, and wonder
personified.
beauty in gap sweaters, gap boxers,
and two different patterned socks?
beauty in your "novick charm"
and the way you grab my hand while you drive.
beauty in your isolated add.
the way you swallow one pill at a time.
if you could you would cut your vitamins into fourths.
the shape of your slumber; wrapped in a cotton cocoon
metamorphosis.
moth or butterfly?
acne, smelly feet, and your tumor are moth-like characteristics.
your eyebrows, toes, and elbows resemble the latter.
either way i am your
meadow
or
flame.
i could suffocate in your warmth.
craving the afterglow.
the mutual cumming, cosmic, cessation.
cradled in your crevice.
with my bones and soul locking into place.
between your heart and spine.