Stars in My Eyes

The telephone rings and you swish some Diet Coke. It's all a joke. They pull your string and need you to work. You go upstairs both ways, and find yourself at the door. An orange tabby cries loudly behind you. It is midnight, why am I here? You open the door and then see the key in your left hand. You walk in and smell Patchouli. You sit in the seat completely opposite the counter. I am there working in another time and space. I have a white kerchief in my hair and I am a bit holographic. I am baking Khala bread and romancing the stars. Each loaf is named. Pluto, Venus, and Mercury. I finish and pick up my tea to just think of Galileo and his nation of Islam. My book is Mars, and I war with the words that are just so boring to me. I see the shelter of The Sun out on the patio. You see a light starting to encompass everything. I open the door and step to see. I am sucked into a ship powered by time discrepancies in history. You swallow and miss me. Protection is a mercy I never see. This society is killing me daily. Find your communicator and work for me to be free. Eyes close, and open in bed the next day.