i light another cigarette and think about where i found myself this morning. in a ghost town. in darkland. darkland has so much that i have yet to find. i cant wait until i can move here full time. this ghost town is special. even the shadows are ghosts. i wandered for hours down deserted street after street. calm in my private concrete garden. walking slowly between the rows of architectural blossums. a faint scent of smoke drifting on the breeze. sometime i cry, its so beautiful here. i wish you could truly see what i see. but i know thats not possible.
i wonder if this ghost town ever had a name. i open my mouth to see if it comes out, but all that comes out is smoke and static. and the fear of the unknown. i cough it up like phlegm and a large grey green glob dislodges from my lungs and lands on the sidewalk in front of me. i see stars. and then i see the phlegm blossum into a flower, its brilliant petals sway, irridescent in the breeze. then the petals become wings and it pulls of its stem, a butterfly. i reach down and hold out my hand. it slowly, softly drifts up and lands on my hand.
i bring my hand up and gaze, open mouthed at its beauty. and quickly, without thought, put it in my mouth and eat it. life is beautiful.