On the chaise longue, on the chaise longue, on the chaise longue,
All day long on the chaise longue.
-Wet Leg
Following the great pause,
mild epiphanies flow like molten silk
through the multicolored canals of the mind.
Indeed, I was just pondering
the aesthetics of the chaise longue.
The curves and rise colliding seamlessly together,
crushed velvet absolving the body of its responsibilities.
Sometimes what I want is to be ethereal,
and this isn’t one of these times.
I inhabit this woozy moment,
imbibing its nectarine sweetness.
Kinda warms the solar plexus
with nuzzles and nifty kisses.
It’s uplifting, no?
in a generic brand sort of way.
And so, what do these curtains,
so carefree and barely parted, contain?
Merely the night, my son. Merely the night.
-r. miller
*Insert Propaganda Here* 