Drugstore Perfume [Poetry]

bubblegum fields

bubblegum fields

july30twenty20

do I busy your thoughts like bubblegum? making everything sticky and less efficient? clogging up the gears?

we follow these trails unnoticed out of necessity, (not) holding hands. the only way I can tell these fields are filled with pink blossoms is the way the scent of it all reverberates through my skull, a rosy fog moving to make me stumble.

because we're blind, remember? not by fabric or plastic or any material means. regardless, we do not see. this is a tricky reality.

you trace my footsteps, and I trace yours; we're orbiting in circles. it isn't sad. it's the way of these pink flowered fields, and a reality we both accept in order to continue our progress.

a softer, more approachable form of defeat, in which both of us put down our weapons and instead decided to create this silent dance (have we become telepathic? sometimes the day is too odd to tell...) that only we could sense.

those summers never ended, here.

instead they wax on pause, full bloom stop. the grief of that modern day is separate from us somehow; we need it to survive, yet we do not perish. am I just as present in your mind as you are mine? or has your dance become one of denial?

well, our minds are lost/paused in these numbing saccharine fields. what to do when the rain finally starts...