Mean for a Taste

I'm lying on the ground,
letting the grass grow,
under my nails.

I open my mouth to gulp the air,
a fragrant swill eases up my throat.

It is night time in my fantasy,
and the dream is only to sleep.
Far from Nod,
it's easy to turn over and face a different crowd.

This one is Heaven.
A raised arm greets you at the gate.
St. Peter offers me a kiss and I accept,
smiling.
My hair is wet,
my face is tired,
but the dirt hides my lines,
and lies chill the smoke as my spirit burns...

Please do not glare,
a fragrant blue becomes electric in your hands.

I ran from the playground that was offered to me.
Dressed in my bed sheets,
dancing,
wet from the rain and my acidic sweat.
Curled up like a cat on the ceramic wall,
I stretch out like a sacrifice,
letting my arms fall free.

I can brace my legs in the grooves,
where the bricks that built this fence meet.
I would love to thrust my body forward,
and stand,
surrounded by air.

Space has a tune and it's heart beats wild.
I'd kill to be there,
pounding,
is that my heart?
Or the fist of a reluctant hero,
mean for a taste?