Take a body and then switch it all out for a bunch of gumballs, varied colors, labeled with a bright highlight. Grab a couple, what do they say?
Anger. Satisfaction. Comfort. Insecure. Useless. Sarcasm. Vitriol. Celestial. Mutant. Hangover. Popped veins. Vivacious. Godlike.
Each oddly and yet appropriately matched in color. Which ones do you want to keep?
And when the blobs of bubblegum monoliths bump into one another they do a small exchange.
Oops, you seem to have exchanged some fruity colored ones for some black and grey ones. What are you going to do with these ones… labeled “Acidic” and “Doomed” or “Empty” and “Hopeless” too? “Loveless” as well?!
You know, when you bite into any of them, they all turn into that bright pink elastic mess as well. May as well swallow the ones that don’t keep you brightly.
May as well steal all the dull ones and churn through them to make a pink mink-snowman.
Do you want to spray some chrome around the landscape and let it sparkle for a moment?
Climb some streetlights and plant a swan-shaped bonsai tree. Let it glare down!
What colors do you want to make up your body, your world, what sort of midnight do you want to see, a cookie moon and cotton-candy clouds or a ravine with no end?
Let’s use some jelly grape for some mascara and Jell-O for hair conditioning. Goes great with some pudding for lipstick.
Break a wall and stash away all the bits you need to see, until it coalesces into a portal for you, hovering above your eyes, bubbles for force fields around dragon flies. Cyan grass and frilly head-lights for your makeover bumper-car buggy. Bounce away from any crashes.
What spheres are you going to pull together, with the gumballs you got in you?
PAY ATTENTION!
ATTENTION!!!
Spheres, spheres of influence, spheres of your own mind, a clump of coal-colored gumballs right in your prefrontal cortex. Scraped dye passes between each one as its own electron, a neuron pulse. When are you going to press the accelerator, splash some neon yellow?
In my mind I make it more of a disco ball and let it reflect it until it beams into triangles, quadrilaterals, parallelograms and trapezoids blossoming for a golden ratio vortex.
The beams limp along with enough spheres of influence pushing me toward the mud.
The spheres you’re in condense into you, switching out all your gumballs for lumps of soot and sugared-tears.
Why not find new spheres of influence?
Let the dead bury the dead; resurrect anew. Add some gloss until the bits of floating light bounce around and glitter into a new landscape, mindscape, mind filled with clandestine tangerine groves and love reverberating into gentle sighs of patience, laughs of acceptance, tears of joy; heaven’s fruit.
Eternity in a stillshot.
(I need to get a LEGOS sweater)