don't you just think that you have it all
and you wear your beautiful smile
like the rest of your days will remain
forever
perfect
like your eyes
and your devilish stare

when the world quits its turning
and time stops dead in it's tracks
we all float
to the sky, to the ceiling
to the clouds and the birds

now, when everything is detached
and falling up
to the space
to the atmosphere,
we realize
that
as a matter of fact
we'll always remain
human
and alike

in the moments that pass
after time stops
i stare down the halls of fate
and, while skipping off the trees and the rooftops
i take a breath
and relax

i let the spinning moon
take its hold
on my mass and my matter
because
what does anything
really....
actually....
matter?