dotted lines

why do we follow the lines?
its like dotted lines, you can go in and out as you please.
I'm touching your arm.
lines glide across our faces like side swiped horse face.
elastic bearing down upon the judgment seat.
a false moon, born from our minds, and taken up to the mountains.
laugh mail bag humbled and sarcastic.
nurtured since the grave.
I mumble something about airplanes or motorboats or screen doors and you yell back to me.
i say dont.
you say its personal. i say its personal.
i give you a number of practical travel sized items.
organized and fraternitied, fallen and hose.
ranging from somwhere on the east end to the nether regions of my mind.
galvanized and de-spirited.
i gaze into your kaleidoscope. fastened to the bow side. given and detatched.
precious gold, silver lining, up and awake.
rise and shine dear child, awake from your mist. sweep the sleep from your pale eyes.
entrenched in the barrel of laughter, engaged in misfortune.
english language is beckoning but you slip towards the meridian.
organized sleep resistance enveloped in dream sequence,

executed and mindless technical jargon.
useless mind game, evaporate the grass stain.
rest your weary head. im positive of your truth turtles.
i rage to your open palms. i want to embrace it.
i want to love all nouns. but sometimes i just can't so maybe give me a little help.
i'll back off for a bit, but i don't really want to so maybe i won't.