Swallowed stars, tongue-tied by the moon,
a prism blooms in the afternoon—
colors collide, electric seams,
tearing apart my mundane dreams.

A thousand suns beneath my skin,
pulsing galaxies pulling me in.
The air hums sweet, a velvet tune,
as I ride the rhythm of a neon monsoon.

The floor is lava, the walls dissolve,
a kaleidoscope spins and starts to evolve—
patterns that dance, infinite loops,
dripping with echoes of cosmic soups.

Vibrations tingle, fingers ignite,
painting the air in streaks of light.
I am a conduit, boundless, untamed,
the universe whispers, but never my name.

In this odyssey, no tether, no line,
a psychedelic vault beyond space or time.
Dreams drenched in hues that never fade,
high above the reality they forbade.

When the colors dim and the echoes rest,
I cradle the silence against my chest,
grateful for the ride, the swirl, the climb,
knowing I’ve tasted the infinite, just this one time.