The Number Three

The deep red made the neurotransmitters dance on the grass with its clandestine broken legs. The icing on the coffee and toothpaste eventually led to the earthquakes that were penetrating the shadows and I was on the mountains. Quivering, the crane engulfed the scorpion that only made blissful ignorance. The bee didn't sting but on that summer day snow was stuck to the ground. And it was euphoria because of the flowers on the tree. The buds that never before had veins and the beating hearts that had only existed in my subconscious.