:: Boy In Corner ::

:: Sunday, August 03, 2003 ::

La Familia

I sit on a green futon and peer out into the night.
My stomach is full,
Watermelon/Pineapple/Strawberry/Kiwi
Hovering in my mouth like a ghost over a grave.
We laugh, we sigh,
We weave stories of misadventures and love affairs,
Of magic and love, of heartbreak and inibriation,
Of memories and Family Guy episodes.
As the images flash upon the home theater,
We sit in silence, sleep barely trailing behind us.
Nothing is said,
And everything said at once.

Glasses clink and cheers roar,
Dance beats push at the air around us,
And a George Foreman grill basks in the juices of cooked Top Dogs.
The sun sets,
We sit on a bed,
A dog yerps,
And we laugh,
We sigh,
We weave stories of misadventures and love affairs,
Of magic and love, of heartbreak and inibriation,
Of memories and SeaLab2021 episodes.
The sky is blazing beauty
As the air turns cool,
Amber liquid mixing with juicy beef
Dancing with our palattes.

I stand at the edge of the room,
Costumes darting in and out of sight,
Music blaring from all corners of the Surround Sounded room.
Coolers are refilled, ice buckets refreshed,
Beverages guzzled.
And we laugh, we sigh,
We dance, we shout.
We create stories about heartbreak,
Crushed dreams, failed relationships,
Longing, casual sex, ghosts turning into flesh and blood,
Memories haunting us, dancing in Freak trains of half naked people.
We come, we go, and we celebrate,
The clinking of red plastic cups makes my heart sing.

My heart spews out words lost in translation,
My love for the Family stuck in my throat,
But bleeding from my fingers,
Words leeching from my soul.
They are my confidants, my wingmen,
My laugh tracks and critics,
My shoulders to cry on, my bandmates,
My denizens of the Shire, my party buddies,
And most importantly,
They are my friends.

:: Rick Kitagawa 3:35 AM [+] ::
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