Space Cadet

I wanted go for a walk on the moon,
but got distracted by a three eyed harlot
that whispered through the monsoon.

Her origins I never questioned,
I was hypnotized by her evolving first impression.

She was a foreign blotch of orange,
a heroine splattered on the floor.
She said her name was Lucy,
As she invited me to see,
underneath her dress. There, she said,
a forest hides a fruit, which upon a bite
puts you in a trance, you'll dream of a caress,
through which you could possess,
the orange damsel in distress.

As she spoke I took in a deep breath of life
through the sound of thumping tamboras.
Through snow hands made way, attempting to console her.

But I lost myself in the rapture of her voice,
the light of her glow, her head without a face,
and the warmth of her embrace.
She sung songs in the key of sorrow,
as she moved.

How she moved.
Hips punishing the air,
occupying space with her silk scarlet hair.
Gravity defying breasts, diamond eyes, and lips,
upon which a kiss, this space cadet felt blessed.

Foreign blotch of orange,
let me drink your tears underneath the stars.
Lets dance on water, we can change the tides,
if we barter with sun, space, and skies.
Don't take too long, no one on this rock has time,
and even beauty with time, expires.

Upon my request she began to fade away.
My voice erupted and it called her name
long after she disappeared, whether she was real
or not still remains unclear, but wherever I see orange,
I wish she'd reappear.