scar tissue

the day arrives but my thoughts are still in pajamas; words typed on notepad, -not now....later.
The sky is snatched from darkness, in a moment of brillance, a bit like the volt charge when you crinkle your eyes. the wind carries the salt from the ocean and my tounge seeks the taste... will lick it off like a knife scraping butter. little stuff counts... this counted... that didn't... if only i wasn't so consious of myself... i wish i could abandon myself completely...i would then have been the scar tissue around your heart.